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THE PHILOSOPHY 



OF 

THE HUMAN VOICE: 

EMBRACING ITS 

PHYSIOLOGICAL HISTORY; 

TOGETHER WITH A 

SYSTEM OF PRINCIPLES, 

BY WHICH 

CRITICISM IN THE ART OF ELOCUTION 

MAY BE RENDERED INTELIGIBLE, 
AND 

INSTRUCTION, DEFINITE AND COMPREHENSIVE. 

TO WHICH IS ADDED 

A BRIEF ANALYSIS 

OF 

SONG AND RECITATIVE. 



BY JAMES RUSH, M.D. 

AUTHOR OF A ' NATURAL HISTORY OF THE INTELECT,' AND OF ' HAMLET, 
A DRAMATIC PRELUDE IN FIVE ACTS.' 



SIXTH EDITION, ENLARGED. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 

April Nineteenth, 
MDCCCLXVII. 






Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1867, 

BY JAMES RUSH, M. D., 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 

Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



By Trantfw 



CONTENTS 



INTRODUCTION, 
SECTION I. 

II. 

III. 



IV. 



Page. 
43 



V. 



VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 



IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 



Of the General Divisions of Vocal Sound, with a 

more particular account of its Pitch, 
Of the Radical and Vanishing movement; and its 
different forms in Speech, Song, and Recitative, 
Of the Elementary Sounds of the English Lan- 
guage ; with their relations to the Radical and 
Vanish, 
Of the Influence of the Radical and Vanish, in 
the production of the various phenomena of 
Sylables, 

Of the Causative Mechanism of the Voice, in 
relation to its different Vocalities and to its 
Pitch, 

Of the Expression of Speech, 

Of the Pitch of the Voice, 

Of the Melody of Speech ; with an inquiry how 
far the terms Key and Modulation are appli- 
cable to it, 

Of Vocality of the Voice, 

Of Abruptness of Speech, 

Of the Time of the Voice, 

Of the Intonation at Pauses, 

Of the Grouping of Speech, 

Of the Interval of the Rising Octave, 

Of the Interval of the Rising Fifth, 

Of the Interval of the Rising Third, 

Of the Intonation of Interrogative Sentences, 

Of the Interval of the Rising Second, 

(iii) 



102 



116 



130 
158 
172 



177 

196 
197 
199 
224 
233 
244 
246 
247 
250 
284 



IV 



CONTENTS. 



SECTION XIX. Of the Interval of the Rising Semitone; and of 

the Chromatic Melody founded thereon, 288 

XX. Of the Downward Radical and Vanish, 301 

XXI. Of the Downward Octave, 305 

XXII. Of the Downward Fifth, 307 

XXIII. Of the Downward Third, 310 

XXIV. Of the Downward Second and Semitone, 314 

XXV. Of the Wave of the Voice, 315 

XXVI. Of the Equal- Wave of the Octave, 322 

XXVII. Of the Equal-Wave of the Fifth, 323 

XXVIII. Of the Equal-Wave of the Third, 324 

XXIX. Of the Equal-Wave of the Second, 325 

XXX. Of the Equal-Wave of the Semitone, 335 

XXXI. Of the Wave of Unequal Intervals, 337 

XXXII. Of the Intonation of Exclamatory Sentences, 347 

XXXIII. Of the Tremor of the Voice, 362 

XXXIV. Of Force of Voice, 372 

XXXV. Of the Radical Stress, 375 

XXXVI. Of the Median Stress, 380 

XXXVII. Of the Vanishing Stress, 383 

XXXVIII. Of the Compound Stress, 385 

XXXIX. Of the Thorough Stress, 386 
XL. Of the Loud Concrete, 390 
XLI. Of the Time of the Concrete, 391 
XLII. ' Of the Aspiration, 392 
XLIII. Of the Emphatic Vocule, 396 
XLIV. Of the Guttural Vibration, 398 
XLV. Of Accent, 399 
XLVI. Of Emphasis, 404 

Of Emphasis of Vocality, 406 

Of Emphasis of Force, 407 

Of the Radical Emphasis, ib. 

Of the Median Emphasis, 409 

Of the Vanishing Emphasis, 410 

Of the Compound Emphasis, 411 
Of the Emphasis of the Thorough Stress, and the 

Loud Concrete, 412 

Of the Aspirated Emphasis, 413 

Of the Emphatic Vocule, 414 



CONTENTS. 



SECTION XL VI. Of the Guttural Emphasis, 414 

Of the Temporal Emphasis, 415 

Of the Emphasis of Pitch, 416 

Of the Emphasis of the Rising Octave, 418 

Of the Emphasis of the Rising Fifth, 420 

Of the Emphasis of the Rising Third, 422 

Of the Emphasis of the Rising Semitone, 423 

Of the Downward Concrete, 424 

Of the Downward Octave, 427 

Of the Downward Fifth, 429 

Of the Downward Third, 430 

Of the Emphasis of the Wave, 432 
Of the Equal-Single Direct Wave of the Octave, 433 

Of the Equal-Single- Direct Wave of the Fifth, 435 

Of the Unequal-Single Wave, 436 

Of the Emphasis of the Tremor, 437 

A Recapitulating View of Emphasis, 439 

XLVII. Of the Drift of the Voice, 447 

Of the Diatonic Drift, 448 

Of the Drift of the Semitone, ib. 

Of the Drift of the Downward Vanish, 449 

Of the Drift of the Wave of the Second, ib. 

Of the Drift of the Wave of the Semitone, ib. 

Of the Drift of Quantity, ib. 

Of the Drift of Force, 450 

Of the Drift of the Loud Concrete, ib. 

Of the Drift of Median Stress, ib. 

The Partial Drift of the Tremor, ib. 
The Partial Drift of Aspiration, . 451 

The Partial Drift of Guttural Vibration, ib. 

The Partial Drift of Interrogation, ib. 

The Partial Drift of the Phrases of Melody, ib. 

XL VIII. Of the Vocal Signs of Thought and Passion, 459 

Note. On the Voice of Sub-animals, 467 
Of Thought or Passion indicated 

By the Piano of the Voice, 471 

By the Forte of the Voice, 472 

By Quickness of Voice, ib. 

By Slowness of Voice, ib. 



VI CONTENTS. 

SECTION XLVIII. By Vocality of Voice, 472 

By the Rising and Falling Semitone, 473 

By the Rising and Falling Second, ib. 

By the Rising Third, Fifth and Octave, ib. 

By the Downward Third, Fifth and Octave, 474 

By the Wave of the Semitone, ib. 

By the Wave of the Second, 475 

By the Waves of the Third, Fifth and Octave, ib. 

By the Radical Stress, ib. 

By the Median Stress, 476 

By the Vanishing Stress, ib. 

By the Compound Stress, ib. 

By the Thorough Stress, 477 

By the Tremor of the Second, and Wider Intervals, ib. 

By the Tremor of the Semitone, ib. 

By the Aspiration, ib. 

By the Guttural Vibration, 478 

By the Emphatic Vocule, ib. 

By the Broken Melody, ib. 

XLIX. Of the Means of Instruction in Elocution, 484 

Of Practice on the Alphabetic Elements, 495 

Of Practice on the Time of Elements, 499 

Of Practice on the Vanishing Movement, 500 

Of Practice on Force, ib. 

Of Practice on Stress, 501 

Of Practice on Pitch, 502 

Of Practice on Melody, 503 

Of Practice on the Cadence, 504 

Of Practice on the Tremor, ib. 

Of Practice on Vocality, 505 

Of Practice in Rapidity of Speech, 506 

L. Of the Rythmus of Speech, 516 

LI. Of the Faults of Readers, 529 

Of the Faults in Vocality, 541 

Of Faults in Time, 542 

Of Faults in Force, . 543 

Of Faults in Pitch, 546 

Of Faults in the Concrete Movement, ib. 

Of Faults in the Semitone, ib. 



CONTENTS. 



Vll 



SECTION LI. Of Faults in the Second, 

Of Faults in the Melody of Speech, 
First Fault in Melody, 
Second Fault in Melody, 
Third Fault in Melody, 
Fourth Fault in Melody, 
Fifth Fault in Melody, 
Sixth Fault in Melody, 
Seventh Fault in Melody, 
Of Faults in the Cadence, 
Of Faults in the Intonation at Pauses, 
Of Faults in the Third, 
Of Faults in the Fifth, 
Of Faults in the Downward Movement, 
Of Faults in the Discrete Movement, 
Of Faults in the Wave, 
Of Faults in Drift, 

Of Faults in the Grouping of Speech, 
Of the Fault of Mimicry, 
Of Monotony of Voice, 
Of Ranting in Speech, 
Of Affectation in Speech, 
Of Mouthing in Speech, 
Of the Faults of Stage-Personation, 
Conclusion, 
A Brief Analysis of Song and Eecitative, 
Of Song, 
Of Eecitative, 



547 
548 
549 
550 

ib. 
551 
552 

ib. 
553 
556 
558 
559 

ib. 
560 

ib. 

ib. 
562 
565 
566 
570 

ib. 

ib. 

ib. 
574 
590 
599 
600 



ERRORS 






perceved. 
Page 


For 


Read 


130 In the Title of section V, 


qualities, 


vocalities 


395 Second line from the foot, 


vacality, 


vocality. 


594 Thirteenth line from the head, 


preceve, 


perceve. 



TO THE READER 



All the reprints of this Work have successively receved additions. The 
recorded analysis and principles of the First edition having been derived from 
exact observation and experiment, remain almost without alteration. The 
arrangement has however been slightly changed. Three new sections^ sever- 
ally on Pitch, Abruptness, and Exclamatory sentences, with other divisions, 
have been added, in amplification of preceding views: and there will be found 
throughout the Work, additional facts, principles, and ilustrations, together 
with esthetic reflections on the subject of vocal Science and Art: while varia- 
tions without number have been made in the explanatory phraseology. It would 
have been both embarrassing and useless to have marked the places of all the 
additional facts, principles, divisions, and nomenclature. It is enough, to state 
i^he amount. The several editions, without the prefaces, and deducting the 
blank portions not common to all, contain respectively in letters, estimated by 
pages and lines, about the following numbers : 



EDITIONS. 

First 

Second 

Third 

Fourth 

Fifth 

Sixth 



CONTAINS ABOUT 


PUBLISHED. 


742,000 letters, 


January, 1827. 


814,000 


June, 1833. 


850,000 


December, 1844 


1,024,000 


January, 1855. 


1,232,000 


May, 1859. 


1,248,000 


April, 1867. 



The first writing of the Work occupied about three years of leisure from 
Professional and Social engagements. The subsequent additions may altogether 
have employed about eighteen months. 






PREFACE 



SIXTH EDITION 



••»►©©< 



After the publication of the 'Natural History of the Intelect,' 
the Author was disposed to dilate the former Title-page of the 
present Work to what it was originally intended to embrace^ the 
promise of a description of the voice, as the preparatory part of 
that 'History.'* The purpose of the History was in the mind of 
the Author? with only short memorandums of his penj for nearly 
half a century, interrupted however, time after time by profes- 
sional, and by social engagements ; but finally gathered, and re- 
duced to a written system, within the few last years of that period. 
Before it appeared in print, he declared to no one, either relative, 
or other associate, the subject of his inquiry: thereby preventing 
all anticipative or conjectural scientific, or literary gossip which 
might in a friendly manner, or otherwise have interfered with the 
quiet secrecy of his occupation. He has however, for causes, left 
the title of the Philosophy of the Human Voice unchanged. 

To the observant Reader of the two publications, any alteration 
is unnecessary; for he will find certain principles, remarks, and 
prospective views contained in the 'Philosophy,' systematically 
unfolded in the 'History;' which if developed earlier, in the 'Phi- 
losophy,' would have been premature, not comprehended, or most 
probably unnoticed; but which must now show him the manner 
of a direct connection between the functions of the mind and the 

* For an account of the purposes of the double comma here introduced, see a 
note on the first page of the Introduction. 

2 (ix) 



X PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION. 

voice. For it will be learned that the two Works are to be con- 
sidered as the first and second parts of one great interwoven vocal 
and intelectual subject: there being in the 'Philosophy of the 
Voice' constant reference to its mental application; and in the 
4 History of the Intelect,' occasional calls for knowledge of the 
thoughtive and expressive power of the voice. 

And here the Author adds to this Sixth Edition, a record^ how 
the 'Philosophy' continues to be regarded by the occupants of 
the eminent and influential places of instruction^ with orators, 
players, and other suitors to the ear of the public; who finding 
they can succeed, each to his own satisfaction, in his limited pur- 
poses of Elocution^ after the old fashion of learnings leave this 
Work to the patronage of those early instructors and improvers, 
who are thus laying the foundation for some lasting usefulness 
and pleasure in science and in art. 



Philadelphia, November 21, 1866. 



PREFACE 



FIFTH EDITION. 

What has been offered in the several Prefaces to this Work, 
is to be taken as only a brief notice of the manner in which it 
has been regarded, within the period of thirty years from its 
publication; and is intended, rather for an occasional inquirer 
of a future age, to whom it may be interesting, than for the 
present generation, who, while indifferent to the Work itself, can 
have no curiosity about its early progress and its subsequent 
fate. 

Having however, through more sources than one, heard the 
remark, that its prefaces are looked upon as the only inteligible 
part of the Volume^ I have, to avoid driving even an unwilling 
intelect altogether away, retained them in their present places 
and not transfered them as I had intended, to an Appendix; 
being further induced thereto, by the consideration, that with 
the record of its progress, which is the principal object, they 
contain occasional reflections, intimating a general view of its 
design. Still, if the future Reader should feel no interest in 
early opinions, either friendly or adverse to it, he may pass on to 
the Introduction; which as a constituent part of the subject, 
regards what the Art of Speech has already accomplishedj and 
what is yet to be done in its purposes, both of Instruction, and 
Taste. But to continue the record. 

2* ( xi ) 



XU PREFACE TO THE 

Since the date of the fourth edition, in eighteen hundred and 
fifty-five, those who hold a certain influence, in the higher depart- 
ments of learnings still true to the Mede-and-Persian normality 
of the Majesterial mind, which does not allow itself to alterj con- 
tinue to maintain, with here and there a rebellious exception, the 
same indifference to the Analysis; with a sly, if not an open 
opposition to its creeping advancement : although they might find 
in its pages, something they have pretended to be in search of. 

There is however another, though humble class, for so, until 
our purposes and means are comprehended, we are obliged to call 
ourselvesj who are still laboring with gradual success to enlarge 
the number of scholars and advocates of the New Elocution, and 
who, in their unheeded exertions, are contented with this sarcastic 
reflection on the lazy pride and unproductive favoritism of Scho- 
lastic Patronagej There never was a wise or holy reformation, 
that the Lowly and Despised did not first assist the master of it. 

But in regarding their exertions, especially throughout the 
Northern States^ under the influence of Mr. William Russell, 
Principal of the Normal Institute at Lancaster, Massachusetts, 
and of his able Coadjutors^ in extending the work of widely re- 
forming, if not founding anew the whole Art of Speech, without 
a single Judas to desert, for he could not betray them; I was 
accidentally told, that in an English Review, of high authority, 
and extended circulation, Some Body has, for the thirty pieces 
of silver, come along with the servants of the High Priests of 
the old elocution, to lay, and this is all I would hear, not only 
unmerciful hands on the 'Philosophy of the Human Voice/ but 
unmerciful sneers on its Author : being in his hardy onset, safely 
assured, that none of our company would defensively think of 
cutting off an ear, from one so deaf to the sound of the speaking 
voice, as to furnish the verdict of his having already lost both of 
his dull, and as a 'paid volunteer' in partizan- acoustics, his 
criminally dull and worthless ears in some other way.* 

* If we were disposed to be sportfully classical, we might, from our presump- 
tuous Reviewer having the knack of so readily transmuting pen, ink, paper, 
and ignorance, into pay^ have otherwise represented him as the 'ingenium 
pingue,' the gross-witted Midas; for whose audacious decision against the mu- 
sical claims of Apollo^ the indignant yet compromising God did not cut-off, but 



FIFTH EDITION. Xlll 

Besides, we profess to be only like peaceful and industrious 
bees, gathering from nature an abundant store for future use; 
yet wishing it to be remembered, that the busy colectors are, by 
some wise ordination, provided with the means of defense, under 
sufficient provocation; which means however, the quiet laborers 
of our little hive have not yet had, and trust they may not have, 
cause to employ. 

In the second page of our Introduction, I early declared my 
resolution, neither to read, nor seriously to consider, any objec- 
tions against this Analysis and system, that are not the result of 
a scrutinizing comparison of its descriptions with the phenomena 
of nature herself: which is only stating in other words, a precept 
of Baconian science^ that justifies us in disregarding every objec- 
tion to observations and experiments, not drawn from observa- 
tions and experiments, more extensive and exact; for this method 
saves much ill-conditioned and wasteful argument. Certainly 
then, if our mercenary assailant, in rejecting the facts on which 
we have endeavored to raise a Natural Science of speech, does 
not, with a more attentive ear, give us the facts by which he re- 
jects ihemj he must look to his own self-inflicted mortification, if 
we neither read what he writes, nor take particular notice of any 
report upon it. 

While in England some years ago, a Publisher proposed to me, 
and offered on his own partj notwithstanding school-book copy- 
right and other opposing influences of British Elocution-* to print 
a London edition of the New Analysis. But knowing from the 
sovereignty of Truth and Time, in their unfailing patronage of 
every deserving effort in science, that with wisdom in cause and 

only closed his ears from music and speech, in providing for their sub-animal 
wants, by the appropriate gift of greater extension. 

Nee Delius aures 
Humanam stolidas patitur retinere figuram : 
Sed trahit in spatium ; 
Induiturque aures lente gradientis aselli. 

Ovid Met. B. XL I. 174. 

The God to punish such presumptuous pride, 
Yet still with justice swayed to mercy's side^ 
To those so dull and tuneless ears decreed 
A bounteous length, to serve the Ass's need. 



XIV PREFACE TO THE 

consequence, they always bestow it in their own procrastinating 
way; and considering that certain contrivances and suborna- 
tions of Trade, are essential to present success ; I declined making 
what I then thought a useless submission of the work, either to 
the negative effect of Foreign indifference, or to that anticipated 
Foreign opposition, which has presented itself in the form of a 
thoughtless, and I must suppose a reversible condemnation. For 
a ' cry of critics ' is by no means to be let loose in our case, as in 
that of the great-baby-ism of a banquet-speech; an every-day 
marketable fiction; some threadbare history, a thousand times re- 
written; and the 'light reading' biographical gossip on a popular 
career; which with the commonplaces of knowledge, a habit of 
scholarship, and the haste of uncorrected thought, may be whipped- 
over in an evening, by a run and skip of the pen. Nor will more 
than thrice Hen sterling pounds per sheet,' pay for the Pauses 
and Plunges, the re-pausing and re-plunging, necessary for a deep 
and thorough inquiry into the new analysis and classification, and 
for an impartial and responsible decision upon it.* 

This work is to be thoroughly studied as a whole, and taught 
in all its fulness; not to be here and there sketched-off, in a few 
pages of a quarterly journal, and poorly ilustrated by occasional 
examples of its good or indifferent quality. If, in executing it, 
we had thought of the Reviewers, we would have prefigured an 
individual of those ready scribes-; as Horace denotes the genus, 
standing on one foot, and writing without fatiguej taking his text 
from the Title of the Workj peeping between its uncut leaves* 
mistaking its themej undervaluing its contents, for the purpose of 

* To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet, 

His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet. English Bards, I. 70. 

See the whole of Byron's retortive method of distiling down to a caput mor- 
tuum, the enlarged spleen and personal gall of his merciless Scotch Reviewer: 
who though 'self constituted Judge' in the Court of the Muses, could not make 
himself Prophet enough, to foresee in the youthful Poet, the potential pen, and 
the future actual vengeance of his intended victim: and who showed quite as 
much ill-natured surprise, at the bare thought of a Noble Lord presuming to 
publish a poem^ as our Englishman of the thrice ten silver pieces has done, at 
the supposition of one whom he takes to be a Democrat, daring to utter some 
original truths, which from their not being yet vulgarized, he, himself a demo- 
cratic thinker and writer, cannot comprehend. 



FIFTH EDITION. XV 

concealing the use of themj and then extracting what would suit 
his sorry ambition to furnish a useless article, he might choose to 
call an original essay of his own. 

Having learned however, that at least one or two orders for 
the book had come from England; and supposing, that without 
being an object of general interest, it might here and there attract 
a curious reader, if set before him^ I proposed to the American 
publishers, to try an experiment with it, on the noiseless, candid, 
and unhired English intelect. Fifty copies of the fourth edition 
were sent: and immediately thereupon, one of the most powerful 
and popular Periodicals of the Kingdom, supported by its full 
share of an array of the 'intelect, learning, research,' and of the 
pen-paying, and mind-impairing Journalism of the Nineteenth 
Century, has determined for all those who do not read and think 
for themselves, that even if there could be the human impossibility 
of a Natural Science of Speechj the 'Philosophy' has hot the 
miraculous Gift of ear and tongue, nor the descriptive and classi- 
fying pen to furnish it. 

And yet to record fairly, I have met with one instance, from 
which it does appear^ there is not a universal deafness to the voice 
of the Work, in our over-critical, over-compiling, and compared 
with what she has been, and with what she rightly should be, in 
intelectual fertility, our present under-producing Mother Island. 
But notwithstanding the candid admission by Better England 
herself, of the decline of the originality and vigor of her intelect, 
into the desultory and garbling method of Criticism, which under 
its meanly masked, and irresponsible Oligarchy, has at last 
brought-down the debilitated pen with its 'thriling' narratives, 
'startling' fictions, and threadbare truths, to seek the protective 
patronage of the reading million; still we should not altogether 
adopt the common opinion, that a critical age, more than the 
declining life of man, though it may generally, should be neces- 
sarily and without exception, garrulous on every-day thoughts 
and thingsj and turn-drowsy over the tasking pages of original 
truth ; should be given up to fondling the pets of a family ; and 
to being peevish, or rude, or vacantly ' sans ears ' to the voice of 
the stranger without the gate of its calculating generosity. For 
we have all heard that Cato, the Censor, though of the rough 



XVI PREFACE TO THE 

Roman Horde, the piratical archetype of our boasted Anglo- 
Saxon race, did in his old age, lay open his mind to new and re- 
fined instruction, even through the embarrassing inlet of a foreign 
tongue. 

The slightest clearing however, of the brow in a frowning 
parent deserves our grateful acknowledgment; and it is justly to 
be recorded here, that about eight years ago, there fell into my 
hands, and it is now before me, a new edition of Garrick's man- 
ner of reading the Liturgy -> prefaced with a 'Discourse on public 
reading,' by one calling himself a 'Tutor in Elocution,' and pub- 
lished at London, and Cambridge, in eighteen hundred and forty ; 
thirteen years after the date of the 'Philosophy of the Human 
Voice.' There is loosely scattered over this Discourse, and am- 
bitiously appropriated to itself, though poorly comprehended, 
some of the facts and principles taken without acknowledgment 
from the 'Philosophy;' while its Author is quoted by name, in 
an out-of-the-way foot-note, for a single term of his nomenclature. 
On the undefined and limited ground of these disjointed facts and 
principles, the Tutor announces a 'forthcoming work on the 
human voice, and its expression in speech;' derived, as his own 
confident promise and his means lead us to conclude, from some 
other source than that of his own observation and reflection. If 
after nineteen years, this great work has not forth- come, we must 
think, from what he has already in common with the 'Philosophy,' 
and from his vague manner of defining and dividing^ that it 
would save both himself and his readers much trouble, to repub- 
lish if permitted, the work, of which he seems so clearly to ap- 
prove, rather than furnish a strong resemblance to its contents, 
in his own manner of describing them.* 

He who claims the right to a discovery already published, as- 
sumes either to be the first and full author of it, or to have had 
an obscure hint of it, in some manner, he is not often forward to 

* The Tutor has more recently published two small pamphlets, under the re- 
spective names of an 'Introductory lecture,' and 'Acoustics and Logic;' in which 
his approbation of our new Analysis and system of the voice is further shown 
by his free, yet still garbled use of its pages. In the present comments, I refer 
indiscriminately to each of these three scrap-sketches^ which may be resolved 
into cases either of sad halucination or of unblushing plagiary. 



FIFTH EDITION. XV11 

tell. On which of these two grounds then did the Tutor get the 
general fact, that the intervals of the diatonic scale, with the ex- 
ception of the second, may be perceptibly and nameably applied 
to individual sylables, for the purpose of vocal expression ; and 
that the second alone is used for unimpassioned discourse? How 
did he draw from a little corner of his mind, the comprehensive 
induction, that Emphasis, in a broad and philosophic definition, 
should include the distinguishable detail of every mode of the 
voice? From whose extended view did he sketch, on his fifty- 
ninth page, a synopsis of the whole science of Analytic speech? 
What taught him to make the long overlooked but remarkable 
distinction between the diatonic melodyj which he awkwardly 
calls, 'speech-melodyj' and the contrasted expression of other in- 
tervals, when laid upon it? Who told him of that threefold and 
nice distinction in sylabic Eorcej called in the 'Philosophy' the 
Kadical, Median, and Vanishing Stress? Where did he learn, 
that the usual elocutionary terms, found even in his own Editorial 
little-book, are from the want of analytic description, altogether 
indefinite and uninstructive? And who told him, without seeing 
an exact system in his 'mind's eye,' if he has one, or somewhere 
in print, the fact of the Old Elocution being so vague, imperfect, 
and impracticable, that we therefore now require a new, precise, 
and Scientific Institute of the speaking voice ? 

The history of the voice contained in the following Work, far 
from being only as the Tutor could comprehend and represent itj 
a hasty catching-up of unconnected details, to suit a compiler's 
purpose^ embraces generalities of related phenomena, deliberately 
gathered within that ever audible, yet till lately, unentered field 
of Intonation; where the natural voices of thought and passion 
had long floated on the air, inviting, but still awaiting, the event 
of a careful classification and nomenclature. No aimless and 
hasty catching here and there, at unassorted sounds, astray from 
intercommunion with the vocal unity of that field, could have 
brought them together even as awkwardly as the Tutor has done. 
He did not find them in Mr. Steele, or Mr. Walker, or in Au- 
thors who have adopted their limited and vague, or erroneous 
descriptions; and if they were not picked at random, from the 



XY111 PREFACE TO THE 

'Philosophy of the Human Voice,' or taken out of some American 
school-book, carelessly representing a few of the facts and princi- 
ples, detached from that 'Philosophy,' it might be infered^ they 
were also original with him. But an original and pervading truth 
never stands still, nor travels alone in the mind; and if he who 
may claim to have discovered certain important facts and princi- 
ples of speech, should not himself have seen much further, and 
more clearly into related truths, he must excuse us, if we conclude, 
that he did not first perceve them at all.* 

The above case reminds me, that about a year after the first 
appearance of the ' Philosophy; ' the Rector of a church in the 
State of New York, published as his own, in a worthless little 
school-bookj with the common promise of a larger wort* a hud- 
dled compilation of facts and principles on the subject of the 
voice, identical with some of those set-forth in the 'Philosophy;' 
and with the very verbal examples, used for their ilustration; 
thus antedating the Tutor in his claims, by about eleven years. 
Had he regarded the words of the Evangelist, more than his own 
hopes, that a fraud undetected might pass for a discovered truth, 
he would have thought of his Great, but unheeded Master's liberal 
and just imperative ; which we alter for present application. 
Render his own unto Caesar; and to the literary Pilferer, the 
Bare-Faced Nothings that belong to him. 

This case of the American Rector is here added, to show that 
we have no contra-national, nor exclusive views to foreign grand 
or petty-plagiary : and to say, that could we be allowed to turn 
from the truth and honor of Science, to a just personal retribu- 
tion, we might reciprocate the Reviewing-favor of the Periodical 
stipendiary^ in kindly drawing British attention to our Title-page, 
and in hastening the call for this Fifth editionj by hanging him 
up, with his deficient ear, anonymously conspicuous, between two 
of those who are found with, or use without acknowledgment, or 
who sneakingly carry away what does not belong to them. 

* Bad spelling, says the Dictionary, 'is disreputable to a gentleman.' For 
an account of the disgraceful practical usefulness of the above, and our other 
instances of bad spelling, the Reader is refered to the note on the forty-sixth 
page of the Introduction. The time is perhaps far-off", when perseverance in 
error will be considered unbecoming in a gentleman. 



FIFTH EDITION. XIX 

There is here no prying curiosity about the names, nor idle 
thoughts on the motives of individuals. The rights of truth and 
justice, from the universality of their claims, should defend them- 
selves by general means, without descending into local or special 
contention with the temporary interest of men. Our readers will 
perhaps find, we have something to spare; and we may add, that 
with a courteous use, and acknowledgment, it might have been 
taken, with our recorded thanks for the patronage. This Work 
was written for the fair and profitable use of inteligent and honor- 
able Instructors; but the same sentiment that offers it with no 
view whatever to personal advantage, nor to present approbation, 
must necessarily turn with contempt and indignation, from mean- 
ness, artifice, and fraud, in those who choose to accept its as- 
sistance. 

If the smart writer of commonplaces, and Jester- Wit of the 
day, on once askings 'Who reads an American book,' had only 
addedj the Englishman who steals from it, he would himself have 
made all the taunting fun in the case; and not have left others 
to supply his unlucky oversight, by what he would most have felt; 
a retroverted sarcasm. For he has somewhere remarked, that 'it 
is all over with a wit,' when his expected applause is given to an 
unexpected turn against him : a condition to which he never even 
dreamed himself liable. 

While engaged upon this preface, I met with an Article in the 
Westminster Review, for July, eighteen hundred and fifty-six; 
in which the writer, with unusual candor towards this Country, 
gives a flagrant instance, showing, that he who purloins from an 
'American book,' must have been the 'who' to 'read' it. The 
case is this. One of his countrymen brought out a Latin-English 
dictionary, claiming to be based on the Italian work of Forcellini, 
and the German of Freund; ninety-five per cent, of which, says 
the writer, is servilely copied from a translation of the last named 
Author by several American hands, and published at New York : 
while apparently to hoodwink his conscience in the act, the lit- 
erary plunder is 'most vehemently condemned' by the depredator, 
in the very act of carrying it away. It is no set-off to this charge 
of international freebooting that the instances of piracy by Amer- 



XX PREFACE TO THE 

ica, on Britain, and Continental Europe, are perhaps more than a 
thousandfold, beyond those of a reverse direction of the Bucaneer 
descent; for vices thus credited are debtors still, and are not to 
be canceled by the balance of an account between them. 

We owe this however to the Tutor; that having used with 
approbation, some of the leading principles of the New system ; 
and promising a fuler detail of them, he has intimated his belief 
in the possibility of so describing the constituents of speech, as 
to enable himself or others, to found a practical method of in- 
struction upon them: which is a considerable advance towards 
introducing among his countrymen, a New Order in the Art of 
speaking; at whatever time and in whatsoever manner it may be 
applied, to explain and justify upon principle, any instinctive 
proprieties, and to correct by rule, any thoughtless errors, that 
may be found in their old and imperfect system. 

But as to our Aggressor of the Thirty Pieces, with perhaps no 
more eye for costume than ear for speech; why may he not be 
some Professor under the now declining school of elocution ; who, 
fearful of losing even his short-lived profits in an ephemeral text- 
book, and with an inveterate pride in the ill-fashioned and thread- 
bare suit of his mastership, has artfully set himself to prevent 
others from adopting the new style of Oratorical Robe, in its 
Natural cast of vocal drapery; which on being first presented to 
him, he must have yet had thought enough to perceve, could 
never be made to fold gracefully on himself. And it is here to 
be remarked, that when a critic of the trading sort has a pecu- 
niary, an ambitious, a dogmatic, or a grumbling interest in con- 
demning a workj he is very apt to confound his argument on the 
subject, with some querulous feeling towards the author, who may 
inadvertently have brushed against his temperament, or thwarted 
his calculations.* 

It is for all of us, an excelent Law of Suspicion, that subjects 
the pretensions of both Invention and Discovery, to the slow and 

* It is an incident, deserving a place in our present record, that while the 
thousand hovering Hawks of British Periodicals dive at, and clutch-up any and 
every sort of game, just as it alights before the public, they should for seven 
and twenty years have passed by our folded wing, quietly waiting for future 
flight; thinking us perhaps, too tasteless or tough for their beakj and a kind of 



FIFTH EDITION. XXI 

cautious test of Time. For in the present distrusted state of 
human promises and powers, it affords the only means of protec- 
tion against the artful haste of an Impostor, by cutting-off his 
sole reliance on the chance of immediate success. It is however 
no legitimate part of this defensive ordination, that even ques- 
tionable claims should, with a vain view to put them beyond the 
future reach of a just and decisive awardj be presumptuously 
outlawed by an incompetent Tribunal, before their regular term 
of trial. 

But whatever may be the fair or biased opinions of others, one 
conclusion is quite satisfactory to the claims of the New Analysis; 
and it may in future prevent unnecessary dispute on those claims^ 
that the portion here offered as original, having been a subject of 
sneering animadversion, which would certainly spare no contro- 
verting means, at the command of European research, during 
thirty years of opportunity^ there seems to be almost an assurance, 
that its facts and principles will not be hereafter refered to any 
other than a modern, and for the practical outwitting of the 
Reverend Jester-Wit, to a Transatlantic source. 

An early and short paragraphic notice of this Work, which I 
have heard, appeared in an English magazinej far from finding 
in its broad and leading principles, the traces of any former sys- 
tem, yet perhaps to avoid the obligation of a critical survey of 
its character^ pronounced it to be a century in advance of the 
age. It may indeed be so. But the truth of to-morrow, is the 
truth of to-day: and he who so cautiously gave a prospective 
estimate, in place of an immediate and responsible decision, which 
the ground of that estimate must have justifiedj was not quite cri- 
tically honest towards the Work, nor to his own age prophetically 
civil; since in then offering the hope of that future award, which 
he acknowledged to be justly due, he rather invidiously ques- 
tioned the capacity of his cotemporaries, by assigning the power 

nourishment altogether foreign to their habitual process of assimilation: and 
yet, to drop our figure^ at the moment this Volume was to be distributed from 
the shelves of a London Bookseller, that it should have rouzed the trading in- 
terest of some Fellow of the Selfish Society of School-book Copyrights, to attack 
our proposed substitute for his superannuated Art of reading; thereby to sus- 
tain at once its decrepitude, and his own threatened occupation. 



XX11 PREFACE TO THE 

of comprehending the Work, to intelects a century in advance of 
theirs. 

And yet after all, what have the friends of the New and Pro- 
gressive System to do with the true or false calculation, and the 
waste-work of the every-day tongue and pen ? Let topics of the 
hour wrestle with topics of the hour. We offer to posterity, part 
of the history of the Laws of Nature, in the human voices here 
gathered into a comprehensive, and therefore to the present ma- 
jority of those it may concern, an incomprehensible Physical 
Science of Speech. If the critical Journalism of the nineteenth 
Century, though generally co-even with the conventional knowl- 
edge of the times, has not been able to rise so far above some of 
its embarrassments and errors, as to perceve the extricating 
agency of a few original and simple truths; but has with the 
old subterfuge of an indolent or deficient intelect, attempted to 
beat them down by sneer and denial^ all our duty here requires, 
is to record the story of the harmless assault, in this now unre- 
garded Volume ; which with its still unshaken belief in the future 
prevalence and sway of those truths, may yet go-forth and en- 
dure, because it announces, and endeavors to extend them. It 
was far from our intention to cast any pearls it might contain, 
before those who, ignorant of their value, disappointed at the 
unavailable proffer, and balked into unruly irritation, would only 
inhumanly turn again and rend us. 

Finally, it will be learned, from the view we have taken of an 
ineffectual opposition there can be neither here nor elsewhere, 
an intentional submission to that criticism, which, if not deceved 
through incapacity or ignorance, must know itself to be grossly 
at fault. The 'Philosophy of the Human Voice,' from its manner 
of observing and representing nature, does not owe this submis- 
sion to any unavailing attempt to condemn it. Yet it cannot 
avoid commiserating that deafness, and indifference in high places 
which thus far, it has with all its remedial instruction, utterly 
failed to cure. Nor do I mean to offer a responsive defense of 
the facts and principles set-forth in this 'Philosophy:' beleving, 
that under an observant, reflective, and candid investigation, 
they will, by the voice of others in unison with the voice of 
Nature, at some time truly speak for themselves. 



FIFTH EDITION. XX111 

As a necessary part of this record, I have unfortunately been 
obliged, under some prospective views, to notice unnoticeable, and 
to me happily, unknown individualities : but having on this occa- 
sion taken a nearer view of the offense than of the offenders, I 
have, with generic touches only, and with a mitigated reaction on 
their thoughtless inroad, been careful to treat them as many now, 
and more hereafter may think, with greater kindness than their 
cases deserve. 



Philadelphia, May 5, 1859. 



PREFACE 



FOURTH EDITION. 

A conceit has for some time been circulating in this country, 
tending to persuade every body, that while they are constitu- 
tionally the sovereigns over their own destiny in government, they 
are also sovereign over the rights of individuality, and the re- 
straints of good-breeding, morals, and law; with the further 
claim to tyrannize over independence of thought, and to bind- 
down the free-ranging power of originality. This last authority 
assumes, that originality, with its Patents of discovery and in- 
vention, often with us, so cruelly involved in litigation, cannot in 
justice be the privilege of an individual; that whatever apparent 
novelty a person may promulgate, it is only as the spokesman of 
a committee of the whole human mind, which has previously coun- 
seled, matured, and directed, all he has reported. That what was 
formerly supposed to be the torch of discovery, in a single hand, is, 
in this popular era of equal rights and Intelect-in-Commonj found 
to be merely a breaking- out, at one human spot, of the full-pre- 
pared and anticipated light of a colective effort in progressive 
instruction. 

This may indeed be true, of gradual changes in the common 
affairs of life; and of politicians, in whose craft there is now, 
nothing new under the sun; of the lawyer, whose slow thinking 
by the law, is his slow law of thinking; of the physician, whose 
rule of progress, is just to keep along with the progress ; of the 
sectary, whose orthodoxy means the common-doxy of himself and 
3 (xxv) 



XXVI PREFACE TO THE 

his disciple; and of the popular Great Man of the day, whose 
endless intimacies so identify him with every body, that his con- 
cerns in a joint-stock of interest and ambition, both waste his 
mind with reciprocal, and importunate obligations, and take from 
him the power of thinking for himself. It is likewise true of gov- 
ernments, which, with occasional commotions, always rise or fall 
by gradual change ; and of some of the arts, particularly Archi- 
tecture ; for though by its own principles, capable of any number 
of distinct and self-unitized Orders, yet being without examplar 
forms in nature, its improvement and decline have been no more 
than successive variations of preceding designs. It is not true 
however, of those who outstrip the world by unrestrained obser- 
vation and reflection ; unawed by the frowns of conventional' 
authority, and far away as possible, from the mischievous delu- 
sions of the opinions of men. Since the 'idols of the market,' 'of 
the theater,' and of the common mental-exchange, are idols, deaf 
as well as dumbj and altogether so impotent, that when implored 
for the favor of original thought, are always implored in vain. 
Neither is it true of that elegant Art of the Landscape, which 
with its 'directing wand' transforms to a Garden, the wilderness 
of Nature; and which presented, at the 'Improver's word,' an 
assemblage of the grand, the beautiful, the varied, and the pic- 
turesk; giving to England the claim of adding to the 'Nine,' an- 
other Muse, already in her few counted years, full- endowed with 
dignity of character softened into grace; yet never hoped-for nor 
expected, because never ihought-of before. 

This notion of co-equalityj that no one shall, without penalty 
for the offense, have a thought not common to every body else^ 
is one of the dreams of a popular 'mass-meeting;' and seems to 
be a confused attempt to express the simple truism, that no in- 
vention or discovery is adopted by the world, until every body 
can make use of it, or is of the same opinion as the author. For 
it is with the original truth of Science, as with the prudential 
offer of practical advice; nobody adopts it, except it confirms his 
previous belief. But the mass-meeting is still a mass, and will 
have its own stubborn and headstrong way. The Work therefore, 
of which I here offer the fourth edition much enlarged, will I sup- 
pose be tried, and perhaps condemned by its rules. If the united 



FOURTH EDITION. XXV11 

inteligence of the age, joining immediately in the advancement of 
any point of knowledge, is to be the test of its truth, upon the 
assumed ground that the mind of the age has, up to the last step, 
produced the advancement; the work before us can offer scarcely 
a claim to attention. And I have no pride of authorship to pre- 
vent the candid declaration, that from its first appearance, to this 
time, a period of twenty-seven years, its only direct debt of gra- 
titude is to a comparatively small number of teachers, to a few 
inquiring and musical mechanics, and a few unmusical members 
of the Society of Friends. For, as far as I can learn, ninety- 
nine hundredths of all Physiologists, whose purpose it is to de- 
scribe the voice; of Masters of colleges and schools, who teach 
the art of reading; of Elocutionists, whose materials of speech 
are furnished here; of Naturalists, who through the wide range 
of zoology, might take an interest in comparative Intonation; of 
the Votary of the fine arts, who might here see the seventh muse, 
now crowned by Science; of the Universal Grammarian, who 
might learn that various modes of mere sylabic sound are no less 
naturally significant of thought and passion, than conventional 
words are significant of a grammatical sentence; and finally of 
the Philosopher of the mind, who might perceve some important 
and interesting relations of language to passion and thought : Of 
these I repeat it, there are ninety-nine hundredths, who so far 
from having had directly a preparatory hand in this work, do not, 
though it has been before them more than a quarter of a century, 
even yet, as to its systematic and practical application, know 
ivhat it means. 

According to this popular notion of mass-thinking co-equality, 
and co-laboration, our book stands in a dilemma. For on the 
one side, those who are eminently qualified to discover its mean- 
ing, have found none. Co-laboration therefore could have had 
no hand in it; ^and the world, on this ground, not being now pre- 
pared for it, certainly never can be. On the other side, if the 
principle of co-laboration is not always true, this Work may be 
founded in nature, and may be a contribution to the expressive 
and the beautiful in speech ; even though the Learned world was 
neither prepared for its reception, or even able to comprehend it 
when it came. But time who settles so many differences, must 



XXV111 PREFACE TO THE 

determine whether the co-laborative rule is sometimes false, or 
the * Philosophy of the Human Voice,' no better than a dream. 
All I have to say to the Votary of analytic science and taste, isj 
; Strike, but ' read me ; for I cannot help thinkingj if you do read 
without prejudice, though you cannot take back the contemptuous 
blow, you will not strike again. 

It has been more than once said to me personally, and stated 
in print, that the 6 Philosophy of the Human Voice ' has exhausted 
its subject. It is to be regretted, with regard to the past and 
future in Science, to which we should always look with thankful- 
ness and hope, that it has ever been thought so; for if I -per ceve 
the future in this Work; it has but just begun its subject, on /a 
new and lasting foundation. And above all, it should be re- 
grettedj if the calculation, that nothing more can be made out 
of it, should be even the least cause for overlooking it. On the 
contrary, I cannot here withhold the prediction, that when taken 
up as a subject of further inquiry, and as a part of education, its 
inteligent Professors will extend and exalt it to a degree, I can- 
not now anticipate or comprehend. I would willingly have as- 
sisted earlier laborers at our work, by vocal proof and ilustration; 
but my time is fast going by, and when they do enter upon the 
field, I cannot be there. 

The history of one of the fine arts, recently revived in Eng- 
land, has often in my mind, been connected with our present sub- 
ject; and as I have followed in reading, the progress of that art, 
from the time it first began to gather-in its facts, and frame its 
principles, up to its present mature and esthetic condition^ I feign 
at least, a plea for noticing it here. 

I remember, my earliest curiosity for Gothic architecture was 
excited by Scott's poems; and on going to Scotland, in the year 
eighteen hundred and nine, the first of its proper structures I saw, 
was the Cathedral of Glasgow. It was then all eye-sight and 
novelty with mej not taste; yet perhaps, as a first instinctive 
step towards it, I departed with an unsatisfied desire, for that 
knowledge of the nomenclature of its system and detail, which 
would have given materials to my memory, with some order and 
co-relation to my thoughts. I did ask the Old Dame who con- 
ducted me, many questions^ but I had learned more from the 



FOUKTH EDITION. XXIX 

Minstrel and Marmion, than she ever knew. Medical studies 
and other inquiries occupied me a year in Edinburgh. During a 
subsequent residence in London, I procured the small volume of 
essays by Wharton and others ; and Milner's treatise, together 
with his History of Winchester. By means of their chronicle of 
styles and changes in the art> by their explanation of terms, or 
an incidental use of them^ and by the light of taste, just dawning 
in the pages of Milnerj I was enabled, after visiting churches, to 
compile for my own private instruction, and as my own remem- 
brancer, something like an elementary compend: including a 
description of the structure of the cathedral; the character and 
successions of its various styles ; an explanation of the terms of 
the art, as far as they had then been assigned; and an account 
of the division, distribution and purposes of the Monastery. This 
little manuscript is dated in eighteen hundred and eleven, and 
however trifling, is among the earliest, as far as I can learn, in 
that systematic manner of treating the subject. There was then 
neither name nor fame in the art; and the interest in it, was 
confined to as few perhaps, as those now interested in the analysis 
of speech. 

On revisiting England in eighteen hundred and forty-five, I 
found Gothic Architecture had become so popular, that the ama- 
teur and compiler had begun to rival the professional artist. 
Every gentleman was required to have a smattering at least, of 
its terms; and many a rail-car passenger was ready to tell you 
of Norman, Early English, Decorated, and Perpendicular styles. 
My sympathy with an enthusiast, at the Winchester Station, 
made quite friends of us, as we together traced the Cathedral 
forms and chronology^ from Walkelyn's Norman 'arches broad 
and round,' to the grand and graceful unity of Wykeham ; which 
seems yet to say to the artj Thus far shouldst thou go and no 
farther, and here should thy pure and finished style be staid. 

. Perhaps an Englishman might sayj this sudden intimacy, 
'without knowing who people are,' even though the intimacy 
sprung from congenial knowledge in an elegant art^ was 'very 
improper indeed.' But we soon parted, and forever; yet I 
beleve, neither has since suffered any inconvenience from our 



XXX PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. 

sociability, while I very agreeably receved much satisfactory 
information. 

Regarding then the restoration of Gothic architecture^ may 
we ask, if the time will ever come, when the art of analytic 
speech, now the humble topic of a small fraternity, may so far 
obtain a hearing from the world, that some influential patrons 
will, as happened with that once o'er-shadowed art, draw ours 
too from obscurity ? Will the time ever come, when our School 
of Nature and Inquiry may say, and it will be admitted, that 
Mrs. Siddons derived her great dignity in Tragedy, from a well 
directed use of the Diatonic Melody, more than from any other 
means of intonation; and that Barry, in characters of tender- 
ness, owed his superiority over Garrick, to his delicate execution, 
and appropriate use of the Semitonic Wave? Will it come, when 
on the authority of our principles, it will be beleved if I say, 
that the later Booth, although rejected or undervalued, perhaps 
through some business calculation, by London Managers, yet 
apart from the ranting scenes of the poet, had in his better days, 
with least of the vocal vices of the stage, and hardly an affecta- 
tion, one of the most elegant and appropriate intonations I have 
ever heard? And finally, will not the time come, when in some 
future system of speech, raised upon the foundation here laid in 
Observation^ principles may take the place of authority; and the 
name of Master being no more bandied and kept up by conten- 
tious opinion, may be superseded by acknowledged precept, and 
then be forgotten? 



Philadelphia, January 1, 1855. 



PREFACE 



THIRD EDITION 



The < Philosophy of the Human Voice' was first published, 
nearly eighteen years ago ; and as the lapse of time has afforded 
ample opportunity for determining, how far its descriptions ac- 
cord with the phenomena of Nature, it may not be uninteresting 
to the reflective student of elocution, to have a short account of 
its reception, and of its progress within this period. 

Two editions have been published ; one of five hundred copies, 
in January, eighteen hundred and twenty-seven ; the other, of 
twelve hundred and fifty copies, in June, eighteen hundred and 
thirty-three. And although the work has been out of print for 
six years, the present edition is not perhaps essential to its pres- 
ervation; there being already abroad, print enough to furnish a 
revival-copy, when the humor of those who hold the great seals 
of patronage, may choose to give it a place in their encyclopedia 
of knowledge, and their schools of practical instruction. It is 
rather at the call, and for the sake of those few friendly Samari- 
tans, who are disposed to take charge of it, while the Priest and 
the Levite of learning pass along on the other side, that I have 
with some inconvenience at this time, undertaken to republish it. 

The amount of good-will thus far extended to the Work, may 
scarcely deserve the name of patronage; but it is rather more 
than was expected, and will perhaps be sufficient to keep it from 
oblivion. Upwards of twenty individuals with various qualifica- 
tions, have been occupied in teaching some of its principles; the 

( xxxi ) 



XXX11 PREFACE TO THE 

greater part of whom have lived in the Northern section of the 
United States; at the Southj and West of the Susquehanna, it is 
little known. All the individuals alluded to, have respectively 
taught the Work, with a full, or a limited comprehension of it, 
and a varied ability to apply it in practice. Some have been 
resident and some traveling teachers ; the latter giving lectures, 
or temporary school-instruction, in towns and vilages. It may 
well be supposed, that teaching a system uninviting at least, if 
not repulsive from its novelty, would be no very profitable labor; 
and such appears to have been the case, with those who have 
thus far been occupied in its promulgation. 

As this Work professes to set forth the universal principles of 
speech, the subject at least, is not beneath the notice of the phi- 
lologist of any age or nation. But as regards its foreign relation- 
ships, the ' Philosophy of the Human Voice ' has been obliged to 
come under that English interrogative condemnation 'Who reads 
an American book V 

To the scientific, in two or three parts of Europe, it is known 
by an occasional whisper, that such a book exists. Two indi- 
viduals, Dr. Barber, and the Reverend Samuel Wood, have been 
the first to speak aloud of it in England ; but with what success, 
I am not informed. It remains all-dusty, on the shelves of many 
of the Public libraries of Europe ; and is in the possession of 
some of those who give fashion to the science of the times. Yet 
it has never receved a strictly investigating notice; no examina- 
tion by a qualified and authoritative ear, which might decide, 
whether what is here offered as the truth of Nature, is or is not, 
that very truth. And, as in preparing the Work for others, the 
author was, by circumstances, the solitary pupil of his own in- 
structionj so with hope-defered, to correct its faults by the aid of 
competent counsel, he has been obliged, in the enlargement, and 
variations of each successive edition, to be his own contributor ; 
and to assume the office of an insufficient, and perhaps partial 
critic over himself. 

The greater number of the pupils and friends of this system, 
have been of that class, which the Rank and Fashion of Science 
calls the humble and Unknown ; Persons of no account ; though 
long noted, for sometimes doing new and most excelent things, 
and for very frequently, first helping them along. 



THIRD EDITION. XXX111 

Of the infinitude of demagogues in our country, from the Can- 
didate for Presidency, down to him who works the plot of Nomi- 
nation, and who all, in one debasing brotherhood but with a varied 
personality, are at the same time, corrupting their voices, their 
intelect, their moral principles, and their republican government* 
of all these, I have not heard of one, who has had time or repose 
enough to inquire, even whether this system might not, if so ill- 
used alas ! imbue his Speeches with a more impressive sophistry, 
and graceful vocal-cunning, to allure, to blind, and to mislead the 
people. 

Of the many Actors whom I have known or heard of, none 
seem to have the least thought of such a thing as a philosophy of 
the voice; or that the department of speech which this Book 
particularly regards, requires the improving aid of science; or 
indeed, that success in their art can be effected by anything else 
than some mysterious 'power of genius.' One individual, but not 
till he had left the Stage, has formed an association in Boston, 
for teaching the principles of this philosophy. 

Here and there, a young Lawyer, with that generality of 
mental temperament and inkling of taste, which in this country 
at least, is rather a drawback to advancement in his Profession, 
has looked into this subject, tried a few lessons, and then aban- 
doned his purpose. 

The Clergy were among the first to regard the system with 
favor; and many had industry enough to look into it. 

I have known one physician only, who comprehended the de- 
sign, and studied its details; but he is deceased. Why it has 
found no favor with the Medical Faculty, merely as a subject of 
physiology, is perhaps to be solved by these facts: it is strictly 
observative; it rejects all notions, and quarrelsome theories; has 
not yet come into popular use ; and is the contribution, such as it 
is, of a physician. 

Musicians and singers, together with certain amateurs and 
critics, who constantly hover about them, have given no attention 
to this subject. Of a large number of these, I have found none 
able to appreciate our history, or to conceve how speech and 
music might be different branches of the same art. To this I 
may add the remarkable circumstance, that while musicians and 



XXXIV PREFACE TO THE 

singersj who have through habitual practice if not by instinctive 
ear, the most precise discrimination of tunable sounds^ are unable 
to recognize the peculiar music of speech, and even to compre- 
hend the meaning of this Workj there is a class, the Society of 
Friends, who, by the strictest discipline, shun all the graces of 
Art; who never cultivate the ear either by instrument or voice, 
but fantastically corrupt it in their public discourse; who yet, 
when addressed by the system, have formed a large proportion of 
its pupils, and have comprehended its design, though they may 
not have always been able, vocally to execute its rules. 

A few teachers of Salmody appear to have read the Work; 
and as far as they have found its discriminations and terms appli- 
cable to their purpose, have adopted them in their Manuals of 
instruction. 

Of readers who hold the scientific influence, whatever that may 
be, of this country, very few have regarded it,either with curiosity 
or favor. But what makes their case remarkable is, that in their 
own want of capacity, they always suppose the deficiency to be 
on the side of the Author. One says, it is a sealed book; an- 
other, that it might as well have been written in Hebrew. An 
eminent leader of opinion, on this side of the water, says, it is 
not worth reviewing: while on the other side, one of the very 
highest rank, in British periodical criticism, declares, in the frank 
confession of an ineffable superiority, that 'it quite surpasses his 
comprehension.' One, not contented with his own single incom- 
petence, takes the Author into his company, by sayingj he him- 
self does not know its meaning; and to a high-placed medical 
Professor, and a practical musician, the work was altogether so 
uninteligible, that he recommended one of his friends to read it, 
as a fine example of the incoherent language of insanity. 

These remarks have a place here, not from their importance 
either to the author or his subject; but as minor chronicles, 
colateral to the early history of the Philosophy of Speech. And 
I am quite willing to beleve, that whether they came from igno- 
rance or from spleen, they were the offspring of a thoughtless 
humor, by this time, changed to something else equally foolish or 
bad. These however may have been words of a moment, and 
then forgotten. Two, and only two, as far as known, have em- 



THIRD EDITION. XXXV 

ployed time, reflection, argument, public lecturing and printing, 
in dispute of the claims of this Work. 

Under the article, Philology, in the 'Encyclopedia Americana,' 
the President of the American Philosophical Society, after stating, 
as well as he could comprehend it, the design of the 'Philosophy 
of the Human Voice,' gives, what he thinks, learned and suffi- 
cient ground for determining, not only that it has not, according 
to its purpose, developed and measured the expressive movements 
of speech; but that it never can be done. Not to contend here 
with a gentleman, who, at the head of all the philosophers, denies, 
what I perhaps vainly suppose to have been accomplishedj I must 
hand him over to the unknown science and industry of future 
ages, to argue the case of its future impossibility; only remark- 
ing here, that as it has been done already, in the Work, now in 
the distinguished President's hands, there can be nothing either 
impossible or miraculous in the thought of its being done again. 

The other formal decision against the means and end of this 
Work, comes, as I am told, from one of the thousand lecturers of 
the day, at Bostonj whose name I cannot now call to mind. All 
I have to say of his attempt at refutation, though I have never 
seen the article, is, that in addition to the direct demonstration of 
the truth of the analysis, which the ear has given to some few in- 
quirers, he has unexpectedly furnished us with that indirect proof, 
called by logicians, the argumentum dneens in absurd-urn : mean- 
ing in plain English^ the proposition must be true, when we can- 
not without absurdity, prove it to be false. 

I have a few words to add, on the subject of adapting the prin- 
ciples of this Work to the purposes of practical instruction. 
Seven or eight grammars or text-books of elocution, for the use 
of schools, have already been formed out of a different amount 
of its materials, and set forth with various degrees of ability. As 
the object is to render a grammar popular, it has been the aim of 
the compilers to simplify the system, and to furnish a cheap book; 
thus accommodating it as they suppose, to the mental, and other 
necessities of the learner. This attempt, either by its very pur- 
pose, or by the manner of its execution, has perhaps had the 
effect to retard the progress of the new system of the voice. 
For, the superficial character of these books, and the mingling of 



XXXVI PREFACE TO THE 

parts of the old method with parts of the new, together with an 
attempt to give definition and order to these scattered materials, 
has left the inquirer unsatisfied, if indeed, it has not brought his 
mind to confusion. One of the difficulties of introducing new 
subjects of education is, that you give the scholar, as he thinks, 
too much to do. But in the condition of all such cases, he must 
learn the whole, or he learns comparatively nothing. The method 
of teaching by epitome, and by sketch, if not always imperfect or 
useless, is barely allowable when a general knowledge of the sub- 
ject prevails, when hints go a great way, and expositors are found 
every where. I published this Work, under the expectation that 
it might for a time, be consigned to oblivion: hoping however, 
that if afterwards, a single worm-eaten copy should be recovered, 
with nature only for its ilustration, a knowledge of its analysis 
and purpose might be revived, without the living assistance of the 
author. I wrote it too, with all the brevity its strangeness would 
allow ; and as well as I can foresee, with sufficient fulness, to make 
it inteligible to earnest and competent inquirers. Within these 
limits of composition, it was my design so to describe the system 
and uses of the voice, that they might be audibly ilustrated for 
the benefit of the scholar; not to furnish materials, to be broken 
up, curtailed, jumbled into a text-book, and printed for the pecu- 
niary benefit of a master. The purpose indeed, seemed to need 
an apology ; and it is usually offered, under the consideration 
of the reduced cost of an abridgment, compared with that of a 
larger volume. But when was cheap knowledge, more than cheap 
work, ever worth even half of what was given for it? And gener- 
ally speaking, if a succession of cheap, puny, and insufficient 
books, in most branches of education, did not everlastingly invite 
and delude the public, there would be purchasers enough, of what 
are now more expensive, and more useful works, to reduce them 
to a convenient cost. An unfortunate result of these supposed 
short-hand assistants to ignorance, taking the place of full and 
clear description, is that each compiler has a special interest in 
his own little book, to the exclusion of others of the same kind. 
And this produces, as I have witnessed, jealousies, and not a little 
back-biting criticism, among these several competitors for popular 
favor. Thus, one is said to have made an odd assemblage of the 



THIRD EDITION. XXXV11 

old indefinite system, with the new. One is thought to have given 
too little musical explanation; another too much. This one's 
arrangement is confused; another's is no better; and a third has 
no arrangement at all. One, in a desire to be popular, forgets to 
be descriptive. One is charged with slily taking his materials, 
without acknowledgment; another, with boldly palming them off 
as his own. Another, supposing himself to have become original, 
by a long habit of copyings receves, or perhaps feigns, and pub- 
lishes compliments to himself, on his philosophical analysis, and 
on Ms new system of elocution. 

This is what these discordant Elocutionists, while drawing from 
a common source, many with and some without acknowledgment, 
so critically say of each other; he who makes the last book, being 
most obnoxious to the rest, by complaining before their face, of 
the want of a right kind of manual, which he invidiously under- 
takes to supply. 

One of the purposes of this Work is to showj by refuting an 
almost universal belief to the contrary^ that elocution can be 
scientifically taught; but the manner of explanation and arrange- 
ment in too many of these garbled school-book compilations, has 
gone far towards satisfying the objectors that it cannot. 

I make these remarks, with a disposition to advance an art, in 
which the persons here refer ed to, have joined the distracting and 
questionable interest of publishing, with the occupation of ilus- 
trative teaching. If the time had arrived, for the friends or 
opponents of the system to become, by the habit of close and 
comprehensive investigation, authoritative and responsible critics, 
I would sit down with them, and together expunge all the errors 
of the 'Philosophy of the Human Voice;' and see, with satisfac- 
tion, all its omissions supplied. I never myself looked for, nor 
expected, nor have I receved, the least pecuniary benefit from 
this Work: and it ought to be regretted, if those who have that 
sort of gain in view, should, by their haste, or insufficiency, or 
their differences among one another, mar the purpose and progress 
of that Art, in which, as a subject of knowledge and taste, all of 
us should be equally interested. 

Philadelphia, December 2, 1844. 



PREFACE 



SECOND EDITION. 

——►♦•©©«♦«««— 

Moke than six years ago, I offered the manuscript of the fol- 
lowing Work, to the then principal bookseller of this city. En- 
gagements which promised to be more lucrative obliged him to 
decline the publication. The result has shown, that with his 
instrumentalities of trade he might have made a profitable sale of 
itj as, with my motives in authorship, I would have freely given 
the whole right of the edition to him. I made elsewhere, no 
second offer of the Work; for as it had been rejected by the so- 
called foremost Publishing-Patron of American writers, I depre- 
cated the influence of his example against it. Thus the first step 
of my authorship was unfortunate; and as in these days of anx- 
ious benevolence, a very few misfortunes are sure to bring down 
contempt* to save further ill luck, I printed it myself; and sub- 
sequently found an individual not unwilling to interest himself in 
distributing it. 

I remember, one of the Patron's objections, in the prophecy 
of Trade, to publishing the 'Philosophy of the Human Voice' 
wasj 'its not being suited to this country.' It is true, the higher 
views of science and taste, and all individual independence of 
observation and thought* in a country, where, before all others, 
nothing is adopted, or is successful, except through the influential 
agency of numbersj are considered as rebellion against the Kingly- 
rule of Popularity, and the Majorative-Despotism of its opinion. 
Yet upon this very conviction I offered the Work to the public ; 

( xxxix ) 



xl PREFACE TO THE 

hoping, by the diffusion of its principles, to bring it into that old 
and only path of truth, which begins with a few and ends with 
the many ; and thus, in due season, to suit the country to it. » 

With here and there an exception, the scoffers at this Work 
have been those eternal enemies to all disturbing originality, the 
Placemen of Learning. Supposing however that, through the 
influence of knowledge made light and popular and cheap, the 
Arts are not so far downward, as to create despair of successful 
efforts by a new one, before their entire decay and future revival ; 
I would say to many of those who hold the places and draw the 
profits of science, that if they will but continue to sheath their 
opposition in their feigned contempt, the first humble advocates 
of this Work may, by a gradual rise to those places and profits, 
see their own enlarged designs of instruction, in the course of half 
a century, completed. 

There are now several teachers of the system throughout the 
United States. Dr. Barber, an English physician who had de- 
voted himself to the study of elocution, and who came to Phila- 
delphia about the period of its publication^ was the first to adopt 
its principles, and to defend them against the double influence of 
doubt and sneer, by an explanatory and ilustrative course of lec- 
tures.* Yale College, at New Haven, was early favorable to the 
system. But the University of Cambridge, by appointing Dr. 
Barber to its department of Elocution, was the first chartered in- 
stitution of science in this country that gave an influential and 
responsible approbation of the Work. 

As this Work furnishes general principles for an Art, hereto- 
fore directed by individual instinct or capricej all wbo would 
teach that art by principles founded in nature, must sooner or 
later adopt it. Will the influential instructors of Philadelphia be 
the last? 

The objections first made to the ' Philosophy of the Human 
Voice,' were against its utility; now the cry among the Learned 
isj it is too difficult. Too difficult ! Why, all new things are dif- 
ficult; and if the scholastic pretender knows not this, let the 

* Three years after the date of the 'Philosophy,' Dr. Barber published at 
New Haven, 'a Grammar of Elocution' founded on that Work, as a Text-book 
to his oral instructions. 



SECOND EDITION. xli 

annals of the Trades instruct him. Just one century has elapsed 
since that common material of furniture, Mahogany, was first 
known in England. It is recorded that Dr. Gibbons, an eminent 
physician of that period, had a brother, a West-India captain, 
who took over to London some planks of this wood, as ballast. 
The Doctor was then building a house; and his brother thought 
they might be of service to him. But the carpenters finding the 
wood too hard for their tools, it was laid aside. Soon after, a 
candle-box being wanted in his family, Dr. Gibbons requested his 
cabinet-maker to use some of this plank which lay in his garden. 
The cabinet-maker also complained, that it was too hard. The 
Doctor told hinij he must get stronger tools. When however by 
successful means, the box was made, the Doctor ordered a bureau 
of the same material ; the color and polish of which were so re- 
markable, that he invited his friends to view it. Among them, 
was the Duchess of Buckingham, who being struck with its beauty, 
obtained some of the wood; and a like piece of furniture was 
immediately made for Her Grace. Under this influence, the fame 
of mahogany was at once established ; its manufacture was then 
found to be in nowise difficult; and its employment for both use 
and ornament has since become universal. 

The master-builders of science, literature, and eloquence, 
declared the ' Philosophy of the Human Yoice ' to be too hard 
for their studious energies; and threw it aside as useless. But a 
few humble Cabinet-makers of learning having somehow or other, 
got stronger tools, have already made the box ; are under way 
with the bureau ; and are only waiting for the authoritative influ- 
ence of some leader of oratorical fashion, to produce a general 
belief in this simple truism^ IF we wish to read well, we must 

FIRST LEARN HOW. 

Philadelphia, June 26, 1833. 



INTRODUCTION. 

The analysis of the human voice contained in the following 
essay, was undertaken a few years ago, exclusively as a subject 
of physiological inquiry. Upon ascertaining some interesting 
facts, in the uses of speech, I was induced to pursue the investi- 
gation ; and subsequently to attempt a methodical description of 
the various vocal phenomena, with a view to bring the subject 
within the limits of science, and thereby to assist the purposes of 
oratorical instruction. 

By every scheme of the cyclopedia, the subject of the voice is 
allotted to the physiologist; yet upon its most important function-* 
speech and its expression, he has strangely neglected his part by 
borrowing much of his. supposed knowledge from the wild notions 
of rhetoricians, and the intermeddling authority of grammarians. 
It is time at last, for physiology seriously to take up its task.* 

In entering on this inquiry, I resolved to have no reference to 
former writersj until the habit of discriminating the facts of the 

* In the fifth edition of this Work, I submitted to the Reader, the first im- 
printing, and practical use of a Double Comma, as a symbol of Punctuation. 
The want of a point, for a significant pause between that of a comma and a semi- 
colon, must have been perceved by exact and thoughtful writers, in descriptive 
and explanatory composition. For brevity, and easy rythmus in enumerating 
the points, it may, from the Greek //'?, tioice, be called Dicomma. The principal 
purposes for which I employ it arej First; as prefatory to an ilustrative in- 
stance; or a question, or the statemeut of a question; or a condition; to indi- 
cate by the symbol, some notable meaning, should the mind for the moment 
ask^ what is to follow. Second ; for cases when the grammar is prone to run 
on, and perspicuity requires a special suspension^ beyond a point of longer rest 
than that of the comma. Third; for subdivided short or long periodic sen- 
tencesj with or without other points^ to check the haste of grammatical parts^ 
if disposed to run together; thereby drawing attention to the individuality of 
members^ to releve the whole from intricacy. Fourth ; to bound parenthetic 
clauses, aud in taking the place of the Dashj which is always a formless linear 
4* ( 43 ) 



44 INTRODUCTION. 

voice should be so far confirmed, as to obviate the danger of 
adopting unquestioned errors, which the strongest effort of inde- 
pendence often finds it so difficult to avoid. Even a faint recolec- 
tion of school instruction was not without its forbidding inter- 
ference with my first attempt to discover, by the ear alone, the 
hidden processes of speech. 

After obtaining an outline of the work of Nature in the voice, 
sufficient to enable me to avail myself of the useful truth of other 
observers, and to guard against their mistakes^ I consulted every 
accessible treatise on the subject, particularly the European com- 
pilations of the day, the authors of which have opportunities for 
learned research, not enjoyed in this country. Finding, on a fair 
comparison the following description of the voice represents its 
phenomena more extensively and definitely than any known sys- 
tem, I was induced to give it the durable form of Print. Many 
errors may be found in it; but if the general history, and the 
analytic development are not drawn from nature, and do not 
prompt others to carry the inquiry further, and into practical 
detail, I shall much regret the time wasted in the publication. 

It becomes me however, to remark, that as the greater part of 
this Work has not been made-up from the quoted, or controverted, 
or accommodated opinions of authors, I shall totally disregard 
any decision upon its merits, that is not the result of a scrutiniz- 
ing comparison of its descriptions, with the phenomena of Nature 
herself. 

blemish on the compact neatness of prints to carry oyer the meaning and gram- 
mar, through the space between the pauses. Fifth; as a direction to a follow- 
ing proposition; showings the punctuative means for supplying the place of 
the demonstrative that, when this pronoun precedes the word, there, or this, or 
they, or their, or itself repeated, or any other word of striking similarity in 
sound, which might offend the ear. Sixth ; to separate, without arresting the 
bearing of the verb, a succession of members^ as objects of a previous action^ 
or as the agents of a prospective effect* which may mentally indicate a less 
pause than a semicolon, and greater than a comma between them. Seventh ; 
the application of this point, under some of the preceding heads, is so inde- 
terminate that the comma, not the semicolon, may be used with its meaning. 

All these cases and perhaps more, are exemplified throughout this Volume. 
But punctuation partakes in a degree, of the whims of the human mind ; and 
on this subject readers and writers will in many particulars, have each a whim 
of his own. Should however, this new point be considered worthy of adoption, 
others may give more precise rules for its application. 



INTRODUCTION. 45 

The art of speaking-well, has in most civilized countries been 
a cherished mark of distinction between the elevated and the 
humble conditions of life; and has been immediately connected 
with some of the greater purposes of justice, religion, instruc- 
tion, and taste. It may therefore appear extraordinary, that the 
world, with all its works ■ of philosophy, should have been satisfied 
by an instinctive exercise of the art, and by occasional examples 
of its supposed perfection^ without an endeavor to found an 
analytic system of instruction, productive of multiplied instances 
of success. Due reflection however, will convince us, that even 
this extended purpose of the art of speaking has been one cause 
of the neglect. It has been a popular art; and works for present 
popularity are too often the commonplace product of a common- 
place ambition. The renowned of the bar, the senate, the pulpit, 
and the stage, applauded into self-confidence by the undiscerning 
multitude, cannot acknowledge the necessity of improvement; for 
the rewards that await the art of gratifying the general ear, are 
in no less a degree encouraging to the faults of the voice, than 
the approbation of the million is subversive of the rigid discipline 
of the mind. 

Physiologists have described and classed the organic positions 
that produce the alphabetic elements. This has been done by 
the rule, and with the success of philosophy. On other points 
their attempts have not been so satisfactory. In describing the 
function of Pitch, or the rise and fall of the voice, which we here 
call Intonation, they have not designated by some known or in- 
vented scale, the forms and degrees of such movements; and 
furnished the required and definite detail in this department of 
speech. They have rather given their attention to the following 
inquiries : Whether the organs of the voice have the structure of 
a wind, or of a stringed instrument* how the falsette is madej and 
whether acuteness and gravity are formed by variations in the 
aperture of the glottis, or in the tension of its chords. In their 
experiments, they removed the organs from men and other ani- 
mals, and produced something like a living voice, by artificially 
blowing through them. They carefully inspected the cartilages 
and muscles of the larynx, to discover thereby the immediate 
cause of intonation, yet altogether overlooked the audible forms 



46 INTRODUCTION. 

and degrees of that intonation. In short, thej tried to see 
sound, and to touch it with the dissecting-knife; and all this, 
without reaching any positive conclusion, or describing more of 
the audible effect of the anatomical structure, than was known 
two thousand years ago. 

The Greek and Roman rhetoricians, and writers on music, 
recorded their knowledge of the functions of the voice. They 
distinguished its different Kinds, by the termsj harsh, smooth, 
sharp, clear, hoarse, full, slender, flowing, flexible, shrill, and 
austere. They knew the Time of the voice, and had a view to 
what they called its Quantity in pronunciation. They gave to 
Force or Stress, under its form of accent and emphasis, appro- 
priate places ir\ speech. They observed the variation of acute 
and grave in sound; and were the first to make an exact and 
beautiful analysis on this subject. They discovered two forms 
of transition between acuteness and gravity; one that ascends or 
descends, by a continuous movement or slide : the other, by an 
interrupted movement or ship from place to place, in ascent and 
descent. They also percevedj the former is employed in Speech; 
the latter, on musical instruments. Though, from carrying the 
inquiry no further, they supposed, but erroneously as we shall 
learn hereafter, that one was soley appropriated to speech; the 
other soley to instruments.* 

* To prevent doubt on the subject of the unusual orthography at the close of 
the above paragraph, and at other places in this Work-j it is here remarked that, 
as some body first cast-out the superfluous u from labour in our language^ I 
propose, with a cautiously used Hppogram, to lessen the redundancy of a like 
unpronounced i in ei, of several words similar to perceve; and of many of 
its double letters. We are no more bound to respect an old literary habit of 
speling, when advantage is to be gained, and prejudice only to be shocked by 
the change^ than upon proof against it, to respect a mere conventional creed on 
any subject. (Vrthography has always been altering for the worse as well as 
for the better, by ' no body knows who;' as if the innovator feared to be caught 
by the Norma Scribendi, or fashionable rule of the pen. The little I offer is di- 
rected by the grammar^ which teaches us to give the letters that make the sound 
of a word;; and I add, to give no more; though it is yet too soon, always to do 
that. Thus we prefer the smooth, and gliding quantity of impune to the half- 
hickuping catch of impugn. But says the Orator, we pronounce it otherwise. 
Then write it so. I have further changed the lip-pinching eu (yeu or oeu) for 
the free oral u in manuver. I must however, except from this principle of im- 
provement, cases that would have a temporary awkwardness to the eye; and 



INTRODUCTION. 47 

The ancients however, show no acquaintance with the subdi- 
visions, definite degrees, and particular applications, of those two 
general forms of pitchj for the discriminative purposes of oratori- 
cal use : and if we may judge, from an attempt by Dionysius of 
Halicarnassus to point out the difference between singing and 
speech, and from some oiher descriptions, totally irreconcilable 
with the proprieties of modern, and as we shall learn hereafter, 
of natural and ordained intonation^ we must beleve they made on 
this point, only a limited analysis ; that the uses of pitch, or of 
the Hones' of the voice, as they are called, were conducted alto- 
gether by imitation ; and that the means of instruction were not 
reduced to any precise or available directions of art. 

No one can read that discourse on the management of the 
voice, in Quinctilian's elaborate chapter on Action, without allow- 
ing to the ancients a power of perceving many of the beauties 
and blemishes of speech. Yet among the numerous indications of 
their practical familiarity with the art of public speakingj we find 
no clear description of its constituents, nor any definite instruc- 
tion. The abundant detail throughout his work more than once 
leads the Author to an apology for its minuteness; and there- 
fore precludes the supposition that he designedly overlooked any 
well known means, by which the various uses of the voice might 
be represented with available precision. 

It is supposed, the ancient rhetoricians designated the pitch of 
vocal sounds by the term, Accent. They made three kinds of 
accentsj the acute, the grave, and the circumflex; signifying, 

when from the deficiency of our vowel-letters, and a repetition of consonants, 
there would be no habitual rule to direct the sound of a sylable. Ours is the 
English language; I have therefore when justified by the ear and the eye, re- 
jected the consonant sylables tre and que of the French; thus individually try- 
ing to do slowly, in part, what literary writers, newspapers, and government 
with its patronage, could under a wise, not party commission, accomplish by a 
broader, and a rapid sweep. One of the uses of a classical education might be. 
to make our speling like the Eating letter for sound. I have altered the speling 
of more than fifty words in this volume ; and have set the accent on the first 
broad o in orthography, to escape the hiccupy og / . To do things by degrees, as 
the slow and stubborn human mind requires, many other useless double letters 
shall be expelled in a seventh edition. 

What is here offered will be acceptable to those who dare to use it; others 
will stone the innovation, as the stiff-necked Israelites served their unconforming 
Prophets. 



48 INTRODUCTION. 

severally, the rise, the fall, and a continuation of these into a 
turn of the voice. The existence in Greek manuscripts, of cer- 
tain accentual symbols, representing these movements, which 
however were not applied till about the seventh century, afforded 
the only data, for modern inquiry into the forms of Greek intona- 
tion; and created a learned dispute^ that was continued, without 
one satisfactory result, from the time of the Younger Yossius, to 
the recent days of Foster, and Gaily. 

If Greek Scholars had employed other means than wasteful 
wrangling with each other, for ascertaining the purpose of accent- 
ual marks, it would long ago have been determined, whether they 
direct to any practical knowledge of Greek utterance, or are only 
a subject for useless contention. Had the tongue and the ear, 
the rightful Masters in this school, been consulted, these symbols 
would at once have been regarded as vague and meager represen- 
tations of the full and measurable resources of the voice. 

The disputants found that degree of obscurity in the account 
of ancient accent, which encourages the profitless labors, and 
alternate triumphs of party; which subjects opinion to all the 
chicanery of sectarian argument; and shuts out the conclusive 
inquiries of independent observation. In the distracting fashion 
of the old dialectic art, and of its modern use, they ' discoursed 
about truth until they forgot to discover it:' and while they ex- 
hibit a distressing waste of time, and temper, by continually seek- 
ing in the flickering indications of unfinished records, the light 
which would steadily have arisen on their observation, they hold 
out to the future historian of literature, a temptation towards the 
sarcastic inquiry^ how far the writers on Greek and Roman accent 
were endowed with the powers of hearing and pronunciation. 

Since the decline, or the limitation of classic authority, modern 
inquirers, by listening to the sounds of their own language, have 
at last undertaken to discover other elemental functions of the 
voice, than those represented by accentual marks. 

The works of Steele, Sheridan, and Walker, have made large 
contributions to the long neglected, and still craving condition of 
our tongue. 

Mr. Joshua Steele published, at London, in the year seventeen 
hundred and seventy-five, 'An essay towards establishing the 



INTRODUCTION. . 49 

melody and measure of speech, to be expressed and perpetuated, 
by peculiar symbols.' The purpose of this essay was to question 
some remarks on the subject of accent and quantity, by Lord 
Monboddo, in his 'Origin and progress of language:' and was 
executed, in part, under the form of an argumentative corre- 
spondence between this Author and Mr. Steele. 

Future times may smile at some of the effects of classical pur- 
suits, if ever tolclj a free inquirer had considerable difficulty, in 
convincing an accomplished scholar, at the end of the eighteenth 
century, that the English language has those attributes of Accent 
and Quantity, supposed to belong exclusively to the Latin and 
the Greek: for this was the subject of controversy. Mr. Steele 
has therefore given a notation of the time of the voice; and 
shown that the same continuous slide employed on sylables of the 
Greek language, is necessarily heard on those of his ow T n. But 
if he designed to inquire into the forms and varieties of that slide, 
he was unsuccessful. For with an exception of his indefinite 
representations of some new forms of the circumflex or turn, he 
made no advances beyond the few but elementary facts of the 
ancients : and only in one or two instances obscurely perceved, 
what in other cases, they entirely overlookedj the natural connec- 
tion between different states of the mind, and their appropriate 
vocal signs. In attempting to delineate the melody of speech, he 
adopted those vague or unfounded opinions of the Greeks, that 
the vocal slides are somehow made through enharmonic intervals-; 
by which they may have intended to denote some minute interval 
in the sliding concrete^ and that three tonos and a half is the 
measure of the accentual rise and fall in ordinary discourse. The 
influence of these delusions, together with his belief in some notional 
analogies between certain parts of the system of music, and the 
melody of speech, rendered his short account of intonation, meager, 
confused, and erroneous. He had two different objects in view. 
The first, to prove to his opponent, that the accentual Slide, and 
Quantity both belong essentially to English speech. This he 
briefly did ; without considering their broad and important appli- 
cation, and their effects. The second, and principal, was to de- 
scribe an original system of Rythmic Notation, by which the 
subjects of Quantity, of stressful emphasis, and of pause may be 



50 INTRODUCTION. 

represented to a pupil; and the habit of attention fixed on these 
important points in the art of reading. 

Mr. Steele shows by his work, that he possessed nicety of ear, a 
knowledge of the science and practice of music, together with an 
originality and independence of mind, created by observation and 
reflection; powers sufficient when not restrained or perverted, to 
have developed the whole philosophy of speech. 

Had he not begun and continued his investigation through the 
distracting means of controversy; had not his attention been 
drawn into the desultory course of responsive argument ; nor his 
courtesy towards the opinions of others partially betrayed him to 
their authority; had he not assumed as identical, those facts of 
music and of speech, which his own closer observation would have 
proved to be different; and above all, had he not looked back to 
a supposed science, in the writings of the Greeks, and to the 
dark confusion of commentators upon them, but in self-superiority 
to this obstructive influence, kept his full-sufficient and undeviating 
ear on Nature, she would at last have led him up to light. 

Mr. Sheridan is well known by his discriminating investigation 
of the Art of reading; and though he improved both the detail 
and method of his subject, in the departments of pronunciation, 
emphasis, and pause, he made no analysis of intonation. A re- 
gretted omission ! The more so from the certainty, that if this 
topic had receved his attention, his inteligence and industry would 
have shed much light of explanation upon it. 

Mr. Walker, who has written usefully on Rhetoric and Philo- 
logy, devotes a portion of his work to the subject of the rise and 
fall of the voice, in its application to the emphatic sylables of a 
sentence: indeed, he reiterates his claims to originality on this 
subject. Mr. Walker may have been the first to apply the con- 
fused and conjectural system of ancient Accent to a modern lan- 
guage; but he has scarcely gone beyond the limited analysis, 
furnished by its history. The Greek writers on music had a dis- 
criminative knowledge of the rise, fall, and circumflex turn of 
speech. Aristoxenus the philosopher, a pupil of Aristotle, dis- 
covered, or first described, that peculiar rise and fall of sound by 
a continuous progression, which distinguishes the vocal slide, from 
the skipping transition on musical instruments. 



INTRODUCTION. 51 

Mr. Walker does triumphantly claim the discovery of the in- 
verted circumflex accent, or the downward-and-upward continued 
movement. Yet, if it is correctly infered from the dates of pub- 
lication, and from Mr. Walker's rather derisive allusion to Mr. 
Steele's essay, that the latter author preceded him; he might have 
found, in Mr. Steele's gravo-acute accent, proof of a previous 
knowledge of his newly-found function of the voice. 

Mr. Walker was a celebrated elocutionist, and may have known 
how to manage his intonation; but in his attempt to delineate its 
forms, he is even less definite than Mr. Steele. His insinuation 
that speech and music, each being varied uses of the same tunable 
constituents, should not be ilustrated by some analogous notation; 
and his own erroneous diagrams of the progress of pitch, are in- 
stances of a want of reflection and of obtuseness of ear, quite 
reprehensible in one, who, without compulsion, should undertake 
to investigate the relationships of sound. 

I have endeavored to state the amount, and the sources, of 
what has been heretofore known of the functions of speech. In 
a general view, it appears : That the number, the kinds, and the 
organic causes of the Alphabetic Elements have long been re- 
corded, with accurate detail; That Quantity or the Time of syla- 
bic utterance, together with the subject of Pause, had been dis- 
tinguished only by a few indefinite terms, until Mr. Steele, with 
discriminative perception, applied to speech some of the principles 
and symbols of musical notation ; That Accent or the means of 
distinguishing a sylable by st?'ess or intensity of voice, has been 
definitely described in English pronunciation, both as to its place 
and degrees ; That this sylabic stress, though attentively regarded 
in the grammatical institute of the Greeks, is yet in their records, 
so confounded with some notion of the rising and the falling slide, 
and the circumflex turn of the voice, that we are left altogether 
in doubt, as to their systematic and separate use of these differ- 
ent functions; That Emphasis, when restricted to the purpose 
of making one or more words conspicuous, by force or intensity, 
has long been a subject of rhetorical attention ; Mr. Walker 
being the first among modern Elocutionists, who attempted, 
under the terms upward and downward slide, to connect any 
view of Intonation with it: And finally, that the analysis of 



52 INTRODUCTION. 

Intonation has hardly been extended beyond the recorded knowl- 
edge of the ancients. Greek and Roman writers tell us of the 
acute, grave, and circumflex movements; and these, with the 
newly described inverted-circumflex, have, at a recent date, by 
Mr. Steele and Mr. Walker, first been vaguely regarded, in 
English speech. 

These four general heads of intonation are truly drawn from 
nature; yet, with the present indefinite meaning of their terms, 
they are useless for practical instruction, and no less imperfectly 
designate the measurable modifications of speech, than the four 
cardinal terms of the compass describe all the points, distances, 
and contents of space. 

The discovery of the above mentioned distinctions in intonation, 
which must justly form the outline of all nicer discrimination, 
was the result of philosophical inquiry. A much more abundant, 
but not more precise nomenclature has been derived from criti- 
cism. The following phrases are extracted from a description of 
Mr. Garrick's manner of reading the Church-service, and have 
an especial reference to the Intonation of his voice: 'Even tenor 
of smooth regular delivery,' 'Fervent tone,' 'Sincerity of devo- 
tional expression,' 'Repentant tone,' 'Reverential tone,' 'Even- 
ness of voice,' 'Tone of solemn dignity,' 'Of supplication,' 'Of 
sorrow, and contrition.' 

Those who know what constitutes accuracy of language, must 
admit that such attempts to name the means of vocal expression, 
have no more claim to the title of inteligible description, than 
belongs to the rambling signification of vulgar nomenclature. We 
seem not to be aware, that no describable perceptions of sound 
are connected with such common phrases of criticism, until re- 
quired to ilustrate them by some definite forms of intonation. 
'Grandeur of feeling,' says a writer, in laying down the rules of 
elocution, 'should be expressed with pomp and magnificence 
of tone;" as if the words, pomp and magnificence were specifi- 
cations of perceptible 'tonesj' or explanatory and definite terms 
for some well-known forms and uses of the voice. But as these 
words describe no audible function, they can in this case denote 
indefinitely, only a state of mind; and are therefore convertible 
with the term, 'grandeur of feeling,' which denotes indefinitely 



INTRODUCTION. 53 

only a state of mind. We may therefore presume, from their 
havinor n0 reference to assignable conditions of the voicej if the 
writer had been, conversely asked, how 'pomp and magnificence 
of feeling' should be expressed, he would, with no more precision, 
have answered^ 'by grandeur of tone.' Such rules for the ex- 
pression of speech, though abounding in our systems of elocution, 
are resolvable, into words, with no explanatory meaning. Nor 
can any weight of authority give them the power of description; 
since the terms 'sorrowful expression,' and 'tone of solemn dig- 
nity,' in the precepts of an accomplished Elocutionist, have no 
more signification as to the modes, forms, degrees, and varieties of 
pitch, time, and force of voice, than those of 'fine-turned cadence,' 
and 'chaste modulation,' in the idle criticism of a daily gazette. 

All arts and sciences appear under two different conditions. 
They may be described by terms of vague signification, suited to 
the limited knowledge and feeble senses of the ignorant, in every 
caste of society. Those who view them under this condition, in 
vainly pretending to discriminate, express nothing but their 
thoughtless approbation. Again, they may be shown in definite 
delineation, by a language of unchangeable meanings and inde- 
pendently of the perversions, which slender ability, natural temper, 
or momentary humor may create. He who thus surveys an art, 
will in expressing his approbation, always reflect and discriminate. 

Some branches of the art of speaking are even at this late 
period scarcely removed from the first of these conditions. This 
however, will not seem strange, when we for a moment refer to 
its cause. There is no growth of intelect from a metaphysical 
nothings no 'equivocal generation' in knowledge. It always 
springs from the obvious seeds of itself; and these are first 
planted in the mind, by definite perceptions and explanatory 
terms. But the elementary forms of Intonation are an essen- 
tial constituent of expressive speech; and though constantly 
heard, have never been named: the studious inquirer has there- 
fore wanted a definite language for those purposes of the voice, 
which he must have always obscurely perceved. The fulness of 
nomenclature in art is directly proportional to the degree of its 
improvement; and the accuracy of its terms insures the precision 
of its systematic rules. The few and indeterminate designations 



51 INTRODUCTION. 

of the modes of the voice in Reading, compared with the number 
and accuracy of the terms in Music, imply the different manner 
in which each has been cultivated. The inquirers into the subject 
of speech have unproductively given up their opinions to author- 
ity, and their pens to quotation. The musician has devoted his 
ear to observation and experiment, and in their path has persisted 
onward to success. The words, quick, slow, long, short, loud, 
soft, rise, fall, and turn, indefinite as they are, include nearly all 
the discriminative terms of Elocution. How far they fall short 
of an enumeration of every precise and elegant use of the voice, 
and how fairly the cause of the vague and limited condition of our 
knowledge is here represented, shall be determined on a retro- 
spective view by an age to come, when the ear will have made 
deliberate examination. 

A conviction of the imperfect state of our knowledge in certain 
branches of the Art of Speaking, first led the Author to the en- 
suing investigation ; and a hope that others might assist in the 
completion of a desirable measurement and method of the voice, 
induced him to set the present publication before them. If it 
should not furnish a plan for the future establishment of the 
principles of Intonation, Time, and Forces he must still continue 
to beleve, without controversy, in the attainable and practical 
benefits of such a work. 

I cannot, at this timej when an unsteady Popularity, in dis- 
turbing everything else, has presumed to be the directive Master 
of Tastes withhold a few remarks on the importance of general 
principles, in the Fine Arts ; as these principles are not only the 
sure Foundation and the Preservative defense of a steadfast In- 
telectual Taste, distinguished from a Taste of changeable prefer- 
ences, and capricej but are at the same time, the most effective 
means for exalting it. And although the entire want of such 
principles or rules in the use of Intonation, has unnecessarily led 
to the belief^ they cannot be instituted, it will be shown in the 
following essays they are not only as essential but likewise as at- 
tainable in Elocution, as in any other art which elegantly employs 
the observation and reflection of the intelect. 

Those persons who receve the highest intelectual enjoyment 
from the works of art, know well, that its fulness and durability 



INTRODUCTION. 55 

are chiefly derived from that power of broad and exact discern- 
ment, which is acquired by experience, and time, and by a dis- 
ciplined inquiry into the rules of taste that direct the production. 
A knowledge of these rules constitutes the executive facility of 
the artist, and gives delight to him who contemplates the work. 
Whatever the physical susceptibility may be, it is not the impres- 
sion of form, or color, or sound, passively receved by the eye or 
ear, that creates an enlightened perception of the objects of the 
fine arts. Delicate organization, call it 'Genius' here if you 
please, is indeed essential to this perception ; still it is the united 
activity of the senses and the brain, in the work of observation 
and comparison, together with the development of new, and the 
application of pre-established rulesj which by unfolding the latent 
tendencies of this physical susceptibility, constitutes the extended, 
the discriminative, and the enduring pleasure of taste. And if 
there is yet to be discovered some surpassing efficacy of art, for 
a surpassing intelectual delight, it can never be accomplished, 
except through the influence of comprehensive and still accumu- 
lating precepts ; derived from the study of nature it is true, but 
applied to represent her chosen, corrected, and combined indi- 
vidualities ; and thereby, under the human eye at least, to gen- 
eralize and exalt even that Nature, in form if not in purpose, 
above herself. 

Besides the sources of contemplative pleasure, and the means 
of preservation and improvement in an art, afforded by princi- 
ples, their influence is operative after a temporary decline, or 
total loss of its practice. They effect a speedy restoration when 
the influence of evil example has passed away, or a tradition of 
former excelence has produced a desire for its revival. The defi- 
nite description of elementary constituents, and the statement of 
the rule of their use, are particularly necessary in the art of 
speaking-well ; since its passing exercise leaves no record of it- 
self. The works of art, without an explanation of their meaning 
and use, are often as deep an enigma, as the works of nature; 
and a long course of observation is in each case equally required, 
to note and class their phenomena, and to discover their formal, 
their efficient, and their final causes. 

Although the ancients have left us abundant eulogistic anec- 



56 INTRODUCTION, 

dotes on the art of Painting, they have done little more than 
allude to those principles of composition, design, shaded light, 
and coloring, by which their great masters improved upon nature, 
while they professed to imitate her ; and the want of a knowledge 
of these, even with the benefits of patronage, was one cause of 
the delay of at least two centuries, in the gradual progress of the 
art to its full restoration, in modern Europe. Stories of the 
graces of ancient Design were revolved in the minds of the image- 
makers of Italy, and of the decorators of cloisters, like the prob- 
lems of the mechanical wonders of Archimedes, that were not to 
be solved by record or tradition.* 

Ancient architecture has, by means" of the fragments of its 
ruins, been revived in modern days, to a degree attainable 
through precision of measurement ; and under this view, some of 
its remains have furnished the highest examples for imitation. 
Delicate observation, aided by a refined taste in other arts, is yet 
required, to retreve the knowledge of those principles which must 
have directed the taste of the Greeks; but of which Vitruvius 
gave only an imperfect sketch, while compiling a popular book 
for Builders; and which Pausanias, in his hurried tour, forgot to 
set down, as the proper preface to his Inventory of temples. 

If the Greek writers on music had not furnished us with a 
knowledge of the ancient Scales, and of the principles that 
directed their construction and uses, the records of Choragic 
monuments and the accounts of the Odeum, would have only 
excited our wonder at the extraordinary power of instrumental 
sound. The inventive mind of Guido, instead of completing the 
modern scale, might have only laid its foundation, by fixing a 
single chord across a shell, and the finished system of modern 
harmony might now have been but just begun. 

Such is the view we take of arts directed by principles, or pre- 
cepts colected from experience, for designing, executing, preserv- 
ing, and reviving the great and desirable works of usefulness and 
taste : precepts accumulated by the efforts of close and industrious 

* See an account of the above new term, shaded light, in the twenty-fifth 
Article of the thirty-sixth Section, under the head of Painting, in the 'Natural 
History of the Intelect;' since from the connection of the mind and the voice, 
I suppose the inquiring Reader to possess the two Works that describe it. 



INTRODUCTION. 57 

observation, looking to the eventual aid of Time; who, himself 
never working impatiently, becomes the great wonder-worker of 
all intelectual, as well as of all physical creation. 
- The following essay exhibits an attempt to describe the con- 
stituents of speech, and the principles of their application, with 
a precision that may enable criticism to be systematic and in- 
structive thereby affording readers at other times and places, 
the means of comprehending its discriminations. 

Discussions on the subject of standard principles, in some of 
the arts, have always involved the question of their origin ; and 
nature has generally been assumed as the source. 

There are two conditions under which nature affords her gov- 
erning rules, for rules are only directive principles. In one, she 
is taken as the model for exact imitation, in those branches of art 
which profess to copy her full and actual details^ exemplified by 
the faultless and exquisite artistic delineations, in the various 
departments of Natural History. Here individual nature is the 
standard ; and here the excelence of art consists, in the whole- 
truth of the resemblance, without the least superfluous ideal-touch. 
In the other, where it is the purpose of art to exalt its creations, 
by a mental correcting of what to our eye, appears to be the ex- 
ceptionable details of nature, or by a selection from her scattered 
constituents of beautyj the rule is the result of a congenial knowl- 
edge in the art, exhibited in strong similarity among persons of 
equal instinct and cultivation: which, if it does not prove con- 
formity in taste to be the development of an invariable law of 
nature, in the human mind, at least affords education the means 
of tracing the causes of beauty and deformity; and of framing 
a satisfactory and enduring system of laws for itself. 

The uses of the voice have not yet been brought under either 
of these conditions. For the first; Nature or that unenlightened, 
or rather deformed instinct commonly called natural speech, does 
not afford examples of individual excelence; and has perhaps 
never furnished a single instance, worthy in all respects to be 
copied. For the second condition ; from the want of a full knowl- 
edge and definite nomenclature of the constituents of speech, and 
of careful experiments on the vocal signs of thought and passionj 
5 



58 INTRODUCTION. 

there lias never been that clear perception of the characteristic 
causes of beauty and deformity, which would warrant the institu- 
tion of a standard, either by the method of selection, or by that 
of the exalting power of creative thought. The highest achieve- 
ments in statuary, painting, and the landscape, consist of those 
forms and compositions, never perhaps found singly-existent, or 
variously combined in nature ; but which in the estimation of Cul- 
tivated Taste, and its perfecting agency, may far surpass her 
individual productions. 

The following analytic history of the human voice will enable 
an Elocutionist of any nation, to frame a didactic system for his 
own native and familiar speech. Since it shows that the vocal 
signs of expression have a universality, coexistent with the prev- 
alence of thought and passion ; and that a grammar of elocution, 
like that of music, must be one and the same for the whole family 
of man. He will also find the outline of a system of principles 
and practice, I have ventured to propose, on a survey of those 
properties of utterance, which seem to me, accommodated to the 
taste of the cultivated ear ; but which being rarely, if ever accom- 
plished by the human voices though still within the reach of natural 
sciencej must, until so physically accomplished, be called, in anal- 
ogy with the highest character of the above named arts, the Ideal 
Beauty of speech. Beleving, that no one age or nation has yet 
been able to prove its claim to superiority in the Art of speaking, 
I have presumed to make a universal application of the system 
of the following Work, on the ground, of the unity of the laws of 
nature, and of the universality of the fixed and describable rela- 
tions between the states of thought and of passion, and the vocal 
signs, which respectively denote them. 

This undertaking is directly opposed to a vulgar error. The 
inscrutable character, as it is affirmed, and the supposed infinity, 
of the vocal movements, together with the rapid course and per- 
petual variation of utterance, are considered as insuperable obsta- 
cles to a precise description of the detail and system of the speak- 
ing voice. This objection will be hereafter answered, otherwise 
than by contentious argument. But we may here, only askj if 
there is no other opportunity to count the radii of a wheel than 
in the race; or to number and describe the individuals of a herd, 



INTRODUCTION. 59 

except in the promiscuous mingling of their flight. Music, with 
its infinitude of details, must still have been a mystery, could the 
knowledge of its intervals and its time Jaave been caught-up, only 
from the multiplied combinations and rapid execution of the 
orchestra. The accuracy of mathematical calculation, joined with 
the sober patience of the ear over a deliberate practice on its con- 
stituentsj has not had more success in disclosing the system of 
this beautiful and luminous science, than a similar watchfulness 
over the deliberate movements of speech will afford, for desig- 
nating the hitherto unrecorded phenomena of the voice. If there 
is any purpose in the works of nature, or any ordained efficiency 
of means to complete the circle of her designs, we shall find, on 
the development of her vocal system, some uniform and appro- 
priate rulesj within the pale of which the voice should be variously 
exercised, to give light to the intelect and pleasure to the ear. 

The accurate sciences, and the fine arts, without our having 
regard to the simplicity of those Primary Causes, in the mind, 
which the more deeply they are viewed, the more we may per- 
ceve only a varied unity in their effects^ have been contrasted 
by the kinds, rather than as it should be, by the degrees of their 
claims to truth. The careless argument assumes, that taste is 
merely a wavering thought, or feeling among mankind ; and has 
no rule for the co- perception of grandeur, grace, and beauty, in 
the selected, or exalted uses of form, color, and sound. This as- 
sumption is one of the delusions of ignorance. But if there is a 
similar method of perception among persons of equal taste and 
education, it must be founded on some general principle of the 
cultivated intelect. The agreement therefore, arising from the 
equalizing law of knowledge, gives a character to the principles 
of taste, analogous at least to that, which by a like constitutional 
law of the mind, in a general consent on the subject of physical 
relationshipsj forms the full and unquestionable truth of the accu- 
rate sciences. Under this view of the foundation of the princi- 
ples of the fine arts, we must perceve at last the measure of their 
truth, as that of the truth of the exact sciences, in the agreement 
of those who cultivate them. He who knows, that all men of 
education find the same properties in a circle, may learn by a 
similar perception, that if the mind should ever be cleared of its 



00 INTRODUCTION. 

human rubbishy particular excelencies of the painter, poet, arch- 
itect, orator, statuary, composer, landscape improver, and actor, 
will reach the spring of congenial perception, in those who ob- 
serve and reflect upon their works, and spread-abroad a varied 
stream of ever-during approbation. The claim to accuracy of 
knowledge is the inherent right of every art. It is not consistent 
with the law of nature, that Truth, upon her simple and impartial 
seat within the mind should have her favorites ; let all be equally 
thought-free, strict, and studious, and she will reward them all 
alike. What has been, in the perverse yet often repentant human 
intelect, may be; and we learn from,. the history of the so-called 
sagacious Greeks who well knew the fixed and useful truths of 
Geometry; that those subjects of Natural philosophy, which by a 
'New Organ' of" the mind, are now reduced to the clearness of 
experimental knowledge, and taught to the school-boyj were by 
that very Greek, regarded as too fleeting and disputable, to be a 
matter for observative science, or even to employ the fleeting 
logic of his endless metaphysical disputations. 

Though future times may possibly break down the mischevous 
distinction, which assigns a different kind of thought to different 
departments of inquiry; and may subject all nature and art, 
equally, to the simple and sufficient process of Observation and 
Classification ; still it may seem to the present age, that between 
the perception of beauty in the arts, and of the ratios of mathe- 
matical quantity, there is little similarity. But, aside from 
metaphysical sophistry, there can be no other ground for an ac- 
knowledged certainty, in our perceptions of the relationships of 
magnitude and number, than the undivided and unchanging per- 
ceptions and belief, of those who sagaciously inquire into them. 
They agree upon themj because they all pursue a like connected 
train of exact observation, or reasoning as this train is usually 
calledj being therein happily separated from the world of wran- 
glers, who taking no part or interest in a mathematical truth they 
cannot overthrow, do not vexatiously disturb their agreement; 
again, because they all employ the same precision of terms for 
these relationships, and are more dispassionate in their investiga- 
tions, than we are accustomed to be, on the many subjects that 
involve the distractions of our pride, and vanity, and emulation ; 



INTRODUCTION. 61 

because they so closely observe the successions, and so strictly, 
by the commanding symbols of analysis, contemplate the bearing 
of premises embraced in a conclusion; and finally, not because 
they employ on the exact sciences, a different mental method^ 
for the mind, apart from its endless ways in popular and scholas- 
tic fiction, has only one methodj but because the ambitious and 
worldly attractions of other subjects of knowledge, have left the 
development of these sciences, together with the application of 
the above described Causes of their success, to the retired and 
self-contented observation and reflection of earnest, exact, and 
persevering inquirers. It is trifling to urge, that the properties 
of a Conic Section are eternal entities of 'purely Transcendental 
intelect,' quite independent of our accidental and physical per- 
ception of them, and that they would still exist as truths, though 
they might never be demonstrated. Truth is a comparative term, 
uncalled for by Nature, who has no relative errors within herself, 
and was only invented for the uses of a disputatious and imper- 
fectly-percipient being. Besides, the question before us is of 
knowledge, not of metaphysical notions. Otherwise we might, 
with like proof of an abstract and eternal rule of taste, assert 
that the proportions of a Greek column existed throughout all 
time, unhewn and unseen in the quarry; like that transcenden- 
tal conceit of old, which declared^ the Venus of Gnidos was not 
the work of Praxiteles ; Nature herself having concreted within 
the marble, the boundary but hidden surface of its beauty; the 
artist, when the statue came to light, having only produced the 
fragments of his chisel, and the dust of his file. I speak here 
against an unlimited assertion of the variableness of the thought- 
ful and effective principles of taste, and not with the presump- 
tion, at this time, even to feign for them, a comparison with any 
established principle of the exact sciences. But there are no 
degrees in truth; therefore, every mathematical purpose which 
remains without fulfilment by demonstration, must submit to its 
classification with the precepts of the arts; though happily dis- 
tinguished from them, in being free from the interference of 
Ignorance and Conceit. And yet it may be remarked, in antici- 
pation of what will be shown hereafter, that the Art of Speech, 
in three of its important modesj namely, Time, with its measur- 



62 INTRODUCTION. 

able moments^ Intonation, with its measurable intervalsj and 
Force, with its measurable degrees^ though not admissible within 
the pale of exact calculation, is yet upon its border; and when, 
through future cultivation, it shall take its destined place among 
the liberal arts, it will be found, at least beside Architecture and 
Music, those beautiful combinations of taste, with mathematical 
truth; if indeed, from its principles of intonation being broadly 
and strictly founded in nature, it may not claim to be before 
them. 

Controversies on points involving the leading principles of taste, 
are generally, contentions of the ignorant with artists, or with 
one another; and rarely to any great degree, of the differences 
of educated and inteligent artists among themselves. If the lat- 
ter are unable to extend the authority, and the benefits of their 
principles, over the presumptuous part of the multitude; it does 
not prove; some system of principles may not prevail in the arts, 
or that artists do not enjoy the delightful effects of it; but seems 
to imply; there is more assuming vanity in the world than fellow- 
ship in knowledge. Silence, or modest inquiry is the duty of the 
ignorant; and where neither is performed; Nature appears in 
their case, to have departed from her plan in animal creation, by 
not withholding from them the litigious faculty of speech. 

These differences cannot of themselves, call in question the 
authority of principles in the arts. Most of the phenomena of 
cause and effect in Natural Philosophy, are as obvious as proofs 
of the properties of curves, by the most exact calculus. Still, 
pretenders in every condition of life are constantly trespassing 
within the bounds of this science, by the absurdity of their rea- 
sonings with each other on points of physical knowledge. Knaves 
exhibit their schemes for producing Perpetual Motion; and the 
whole host of learned and unlearned credulity cannot change the 
influence of those principles, which as yet, have determined the 
mechanical impossibility. 

There is a wholesome kind of conviction in the mind of fools, 
which forces them to confess their want of knowledge in mathe- 
matics, if they have not studied that science. But taste, say 
they, is 'natural,' therefore every one should have his own. It 
is true, every one knows what will please himself in his igno- 



INTRODUCTION. 63 

ranee ; the wise alone know what will please the inteligent in 
their education. 

In thus advocating the necessity of precepts for the promotion, 
government, defense, and restoration of taste, I deprecate any 
inference that, by furnishing available though even conventional 
rules for an art, these precepts tend to confine it to an unalter- 
able standard. Established principles are not as the barrier of a 
flood, which in protecting from inroad, sometimes restrictively 
prevents the opportunities of further conquestj but as the guide 
and escort of the arts, to acquisitions of wider glory. With an 
exception of that often misused principle, Variety^ their influ- 
ence over the arts has always insured their advancement, and 
accompanied their exaltation. The ambitious search after Nov- 
elty, which under another name, too often means Variety in 
the successions of fashion and of schoolsj has, through the rest- 
less designs of vanity, and the influence of unguarded patronage, 
ruined more arts than all the destructive ignorance of the bar- 
barian. 

It will perhaps be saidj we learn from experience, that a high 
advancement in the arts may lead to perversion from their origi- 
nal purpose. This indeed has sometimes been the case. By in- 
creasing the difficulties of musical execution, in the voice and on 
instruments, this art is, through the singularities of mechanical 
skill, the varied tricks of interest and ambition, and the wayward- 
ness of undiscerning patronage, frequently exercised to the indif- 
ference or disgust of those, whose approbation would be durable; 
and to the thoughtless satisfaction of those, whom the united 
caprice of ignorance and fashion may urge equally to support or 
to destroy. 

A full knowledge of the principles and practice of an art, en- 
ables an industrious and aspiring votary to approach perfection; 
while idle followers are contented with the defaults of imitation. 
With most men, the labor of the mind, equally with that of the 
body, ceases with the removal of its necessity; and a shameless 
dependence on the intelectual alms of others, is not less common, 
than the populous growth of pauperism upon the increasing pro- 
visions of benevolence. The unbounded distributions of wise 
originality prompt to excuses for indolence, and to claims for 



64 INTRODUCTION. 

succor, and the empire itself of the art falls at last, under the 
insurrection and anarchy of its former servile dependents. 

But it may be asked by those who think, elocution cannot be 
taughtj What relation do these methodic principles of taste, bear 
to the spontaneous, and self- directing uses of speech? And why 
should we seek the assistance of rules, when the instinct of thought 
and passion unerringly effect all their vocal purposes ? For it is 
the belief of those who cannot perceve the application of analysis 
and precept to Elocution, that its power consists in the wonder- 
working of 'genius,' and in proprieties and 'graces beyond the 
reach of art.' So seem the plainest services of arithmetic to a 
savage; and so, to the slave, seem all the ways of music which 
modern art has so accurately penned, as to time, and tune, and 
momentary grace. Ignorance knows not what has been done; 
indolence thinks nothing can be done; and both uniting, borrow 
from the abused eloquence of poetry, an aphorism to justify supine- 
ness of inquiry. 

It is readily admitted of elocution as of the other esthetic arts, 
that a full analysis of its constituents, together with the establish- 
ment of a system of principles will not in the present benighted 
state of the mind, always exempt it from abuse or ruin. But I 
cannot therefore, refrain from recommending that intelectual, and 
enlarging cultivation of the instinct of the voice, which must in- 
sure the highest satisfaction, while the art remains uncorrupted; 
and which, by the description of its constituents and method, will 
afford the best means for any needed restoration. 

Perhaps it is not going too far, to sayj the art of speaking, as 
ordained by nature, and defended as well as directed by the adop- 
tion and extension of her ascertained rules, does not consist of 
those purposes and means, that are liable, through an ambitious 
love of change, to end in corruption. Some of the fine arts may 
receve the addition of Ornament, properly so called; which in its 
excess, is alas, too often the precursor of their ruin; and which, 
holding but a separate relationship to its subject or principal, 
leaves a refined and guarded taste to order the degree of its ap- 
plication, or its total exclusion. The art of speaking is subject 
to no such conditions. The representation of thought, and the 
expression of passion by their respective vocal-signs, are fixed in 



INTRODUCTION. 65 

their amenity by an unalterable instinct^ or if this is not granted, 
by the satisfactory decisions of universal convention. With this 
ordained constitution or habit of the voice, all addition to the 
numbered signs of its language is redundancy, and all misplaced 
utterance is affectation. 

The following history of the voice is addressed especially to 
those who pursue science with attention and perseverance^ who 
prefer its useful accuracy, to its ostentation^ who are satisfied 
with the 'few, but fit audience/ and who know, from their own 
happy experience, that exactness of knowledge is the bright fe- 
licity of intelect. To inquirers of this character, it need not be 
said, that even the rapid flight of speech may be more easily fol- 
lowed, when the general principles that direct it have become 
familiar. The hesitation of the ear will be prompted by the 
mind, and we shall more readily discern what is, by knowing 
what ought to be. 

After the preceding representation of our limited knowledge 
of the functions of the voice, and upon the promises of a more 
extended and precise analysis, the Reader must be prepared to 
find in the following essay, a new, but I hope not a distracting 
nomenclature. When unnamed additions are made to the system 
and detail of an art, terms must be invented for them; and even 
when its known phenomena are exhibited under varied relation- 
ships, the purpose of description is less perplexed by the novelty 
of terms, than by an attempt to give another application or 
meaning to former names. 

Many of the varieties of pitch being accurately designated 
and clearly arranged in musicj a part of its nomenclature is, in 
this essay, transfered to the description of speech; and whenever 
a language has been purposely framed, I have endeavored to make 
it, by direct or metaphorical use, purely explanatory of the vocal 
functions. 

Although I have gone deeply into the philosophical history of 
speech, and have spared no pains in ilustrating whatever might 
from its novelty, be otherwise obscurej I have not pretended to 
make specific application of all the principles here laid down, to 
every case of the reading and speaking voice. As the design of 
this essay is, to promulgate a new Institute of Elocution, I have 



66 INTRODUCTION. 

endeavored to accommodate the full requisitions of the subject, 
to the limitation of my time, by brief generalities of explanation 
and of method; which, in holding the light of instruction broadly, 
yet distinctly, over the whole, may enable others to perceve the 
relationship of the parts ; and thus with the closer and more par- 
ticular hand of detail, to unite in purpose for the completion of 
the work. The full development of an art, in all its practical 
bearings, can be effected only by the united labor of many, and 
of their lives. Here is the result of the leisure of about three 
years, snatched from the daily duty of extensive professional 
occupation. If in discharging the duties of that profession, I 
have selected from its physiological department, a subject of in- 
quiry which gives its ultimate services in another art, I have not 
therein forgotten that Nature, who never is ungrateful to the eyes 
that watch her, has still her secrets in the human frame, yet to be 
told for the instruction, health, or happiness of man ; the future 
search after which, may not be without success* and will not be, 
without the satisfaction experienced in conducting these offered 
scrutinies of the tongue and ear. 

The reception which may await the following Work, can be of 
no important interest to me. By taking care to antedate any 
expected season of its penalties and rewards, I have already 
found them in the varied perplexity and pleasure of its accom- 
plishment. I leave it therefore for the service of him, who may 
in future desire to read the natural history of his voice. The sys- 
tem here presented will satisfy much of his curiosity; for I feel 
assured, by the result of the rigid method of observation employed 
throughout the inquiry, that if science should ever come to one 
consent on this point, it will not differ essentially from the ensu- 
ing record. The world has long asked for light on this subject. 
It may not choose to accept it now; but having idly suffered its 
own opportunity for observation to go by, it must, under any 
capricious postponement, at last receve it here. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds has a pretty thought, on the labors of 
ambition and the choice of fame. I do not remember his words 
exactly; but he figures the present age and posterity as rivals, 
and those who are favored by the one, as being outcasts from the 
other. This condition, while it allows a full but transient satis- 



INTRODUCTION. 67 

faction to the zeal which works only for a present reward, does 
not exclude all prospect from those who are contented in the 
anticipation of defered success. Truth, whose first steps should 
be always vigorous and alone, is often obliged to lean for support 
and progress on the arm of Time ; who then only, when supporting 
her, seems to have laid aside his wings. 



Philadelphia, January, 1827. 



THE 



PHILOSOPHY 



OF 



THE HUMAN VOICE, 



SECTION I. 

Of the general Divisions of Vocal Sound: with a more particu- 
lar account of its Pitch. 

All the constituents of the human voice, may be refered to 
the five following Modes: 

VOCALITY, 

FORCE, 

TIME, 

ABRUPTNESS, 

PITCH. 

The detail of these five modes, and of the multiplied combina- 
tion of their several forms, degrees, and varieties, includes the 
enumeration of all the Articulating and the Expressive powers 
of speech. 

The extension of knowledge calls for an additional nomencla- 
ture; and new facts and principles on the subject of the voice, 
will require new terms for the description and arrangement of 
them. It is therefore proper to show, how far common nomen- 
clature fulfils the purpose of explanation and division ; and to 
provide the means by which an obvious deficiency may be sup- 
plied. 

(69) 



TO DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS, 

The terms by which Yocality or the Kind of voice is distin- 
guished, arej rough, smooth, harsh, full, thin, musical, and some 
others of the same metaphorical character. They are sufficiently 
numerous; and as descriptive as possible, without reference to 
examplar sounds. Vocalists have proposed to distinguish the 
singing voice, by its resemblance to the sound of the reed, the 
string, and the musical-glass. The sub-animals afford analogies 
to the different vocalities in the human voice.* 

For the specifications of Force, we use the wordsj strong, weak, 
loud, forcible, and feeble. These are indefinite in their indica- 
tion, and without a fixed measure in degree. Music has more 
orderly and numerously distinguished the varieties of force, by 
its series of terms from Pianissimo to Fortissimo. I shall, in its 
proper place, make some new distinctions in the manner of em- 
ploying this mode. 

Time, in' speaking, is denoted by the terms j long, short, quick, 
slow, and rapid. Music has a more precise scale of relationship, 
in its order of signs from semibreve to double-demisemiquaver. 
The single or unaccompanied sound of speech does not call for 
that nicety in Time, which the concerting of music requires; yet 
there is need of more precision in designating its degrees, than 
the usual terms of prosody afford. Mr. Steele gives examples of 
an application of the symbols of music, to the variable time of 
discourse. I shall hereafter make a division of this mode, with 
reference to English sylables, and to their employment in speech. 

I use the term Abruptness, to signify the sudden and full dis- 
charge of sound, as contradistinguished from its more gradual 
emission. Abruptness is well represented by the explosive notes 
which may be executed on the bassoon, and by a quick touch on 
the organ. I have given this mode of the voice, the place and 
importance of a general head, not only as an expressive agent in 
speech, but because its characteristic explosion is peculiar, and 

* In all the previous editions of this Work, the word Quality is used for what 
is here called Vocalily. But this volume is intended to be the first part of the 
'Natural History of the Intelect;' and as the term quality is there applied ex- 
clusively to certain powers of the mindj to avoid confusion of nomenclature, we 
shall hereafter always substitute the term vocality for that of quality; and per- 
haps the former having a less general application than the latter, is more ap- 
propriate to that audible voice which is distinguished from whisper. 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 71 

quite distinct from the mode of Force ; with which, from its ad- 
mitting degrees of intensity, it might seem to be identical. 

The variations of Pitch in the speaking voice, are denoted by 
the wordsj rise and fall, high and low, acute and grave. The 
vague import and the insufficiency of this division were shown in 
our introduction : and as the following history of the voice makes 
especial reference to this mode, and gives a minute detail of its 
numerous forms and varieties, it is necessary to adopt a more ex- 
tended, and more definite nomenclature. 

It happened well, for our assistance in developing the phe- 
nomena of speech, that most of the forms of this mode were long 
ago observed, analyzed, and named, in the proper science of 
music. Some of its uses however, in the speaking voice, are not 
technically known in that science. For these I have made' a 
language. But most of the constituents of the musical system, 
though differently employed, are also found in speech. It is ad- 
visable therefore, to adopt the musical terms for these identical 
functions: since they are already known to many, and may, 
through elementary treatises, be easily learned by all; and since 
the application of different names, to things of essential resem- 
blance, would counteract one great object of philosophy; which 
is, to include all similar phenomena under the same verbal classes ; 
notwithstanding they may happen to be separated, by place and 
name, in our artificial arrangements. In colecting facts from 
Nature, who is no respecter of position or title, we must take 
them where we find them, and class them, just as they agree. I 
shall therefore give a concise account of the terms by which the 
forms of Pitch are distinguished in music. 

In entering upon this elementary and important explanation, 
wherein a recognition of certain differences of sound is absolutely 
necessary for properly comprehending the subsequent parts of 
this Workj I must beg the Reader not to be discouraged by tem- 
porary difficulty. He who has been taught the principles of in- 
strumental or of vocal music, and is able to execute accurately 
what is called the Scale or Gamut, will recognize the following 
descriptions, without much hesitation. He who is ignorant of the 
relations of musical sounds, and of the regular scale by which 
they have been arranged, must on this, as on so many other sub- 



72 DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 

jects of instruction ■which need perceptible ilustration, have re- 
course to a Teacher. He can generally find at hand, instrumental 
performers, or singing masters, or the clerk of some neighboring 
church, who will exemplify to his satisfaction all that is merely 
descriptive here. 

The Reader is not refered indiscriminately, to musicians and 
singers, for assistance in his application of the principles of music 
to the analysis of speech. The system of mechanical formality 
to which many of them have in a great degree circumscribed their 
views, together with the wasteful industry of their perpetual prac- 
tice upon difficulties has, generally speaking, so limited their per- 
ceptive faculty, that the most striking analogy in other things, to 
points of their own art, is rarely first observed by them; but they 
know w T ell their daily practical rotine. To them therefore the 
Reader is refered, for exemplification of a technical nomenclature, 
which I have here, only the means of words and diagram to 
explain. 

For an elementary account of the mathematical and mechan- 
ical investigation of the formal causes of Sound, the Reader is 
refered to writers on Acoustics. By them, the whole of its phe- 
nomena have been assigned to two general divisions : Noise, formed 
by Irregularj and Musical or Tunable sound, by Regular, vibra- 
tions. It is difficult however, to draw an exact line of separation 
between these divisions; since even noise, when continued, has, 
however rude and obscure, a certain kind of musical capability, 
and may have more or less of an awkward variation in pitch. 
But the obvious differences in the two cases, are sufficient for the 
purposes of this essay ; though w r e shall hardly refer to the effect 
of noise, except in designating those remarkable and deafening 
assaults upon the ear, by the combined vociferations, and instru- 
mental crashes of a full-assembled Opera-Chorus. Corresponding 
to the above distinctions, I shall regard sound as Tunable, and 
Untunable ; and shall consider the former, properly including 
vocal and instrumento-musical sound. 

As Speech and Music, when regarded under the Mode of intona- 
tion, are subdivisions of the General Science of Tunable Sound, 
the Reader will perceve the necessity of designating and explain- 
ing those terms which belong alike to both; or are restrictively 
appropriated to each. 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 73 



The term Pitch is applied to the variations of tunable sound, 
between its lowest and its highest appreciable degree. This 
variation between gravity and acuteness, is represented in the 
human voice, by the two extremes of hoarseness and screaming. 

The different degrees of Pitch in music are denoted by what is 
called the Scale; the formation of which may be thus ilustrated. 

When the bow is drawn across a string of a Violin, and the 
finger at the same time gradually moved, with continued pressure 
on the string, from its lower attachment to any distance upwards, 
a mewing sound, if I may so call it, is heard. This mewing is 
caused by the gradual change from gravity to acuteness, through 
the gradual shortening of the string : and as it thus rises by a 
succession of uninterrupted momentary changes, each continuous 
or concreted, as it were, in its increments of time and of motion, 
I shall call it Concrete sound. This movement of pitch, on the 
violin, is termed a Slide. 

The Reader may himself exemplify this concrete sound, by 
uttering the single sylable aye, as if he were asking a question 
with the expression of earnest surprise, yet rather deliberately; 
beginning at the lowest, and ending at the highest limit of his 
voice. The gradual rising-movement in this case is continuous 
or concrete : yet as the voice, and any other tunable sound may 
be continued in one uninterrupted movement upon the same line 
of pitch, without rising or fallings it is to be remarked that the 
term Concrete is in this essay applied only to an uninterrupted 
movement in a rising, and in a falling direction. 

Now, the sounds of what is called the Scale, in Music, do not 
rise by a connected or concrete movement; but are made, by 
drawing the bow, only while the finger is held stationary at cer- 
tain successive places on the string : thus showing an interruption 
of the continuous upward slide. These places are seven in num- 
ber; their distances from each other being determined by a 
natural law, and rendered precisely measurable by a scientific 
rule for subdividing the string, which we need not consider here. 
Other sounds still ascending on the string above the places of 
these seven, may be made by a similar interrupted progression. 
But as the second series of seven sounds, though of higher 
pitch, yet adjusted by the same rulej do each to each in order, 



74 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 



© U 



12 



© 11 



10 



so nearly accord in relationship with the first seven, as seem- 
ingly to be a repetition of them; and the same being true of all 
the series of seven, formed between the lowest and the highest 
limit of soundj the whole extent of variation in 
acuteness and gravity, is regarded as consisting of 
the simple scale of seven sounds, repeated in dif- 
ferent series or places of pitch. 

If we suppose the sound at each place of the 
scale to be prolonged on the same line of pitch, 
so to distinguish it from the concrete change, it 
may be called aievel or protracted line of sound. 
On the margin, a diagram represents the places 
where we suppose the string to be pressed, and 
the level line of pitch to be made, when the bow 
is drawn: the black disks on the line, at the 
places of two of the repeated series of seven 
sounds, being marked numerically: the initials 
T and S, respectively denoting the terms, Tone 
and Semitone, which will presently be explained. 
Upon comparing this picture with the above 
account of the production of concrete sound, and 
supposing the concrete progression upon the string 
to be represented by the continuous vertical line 
of the diagram, on which these numerical places 
are marked by the disksj it is obvious, that por- 
tions of the concrete must be unheard, when the 
bow is drawn, only while the finger is stationary 
at the several places. The sounds thus separately 
produced at these places, with an omission of the 
intermediate concrete, I shall call Discrete Sounds. 
These, when heard successively in a given order, 
as represented by the diagram, constitute a Dis- 
crete Scale.* 

The explanation here given of the manner of 



6 8 



® 6 



6 5 



# 4 



2 



© 1 



* This continuity and this disjunction of the line of pitch are known to most 
musicians, only under the respective names of Slide, and Skip. The terms con- 
crete and discrete, as here applied, are borrowed from mathematics ; in which 
science they designate the two great generic divisions of quantity. Magni- 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 75 

concrete and discrete progressions, in an upward direction ap- 
plies to those of the downward course, under a reverse move- 
ment of the gradual slide, and of the interrupted sound, on the 
string. 

The variations of pitch on most musical instruments are dis- 
crete. The violin and its varieties derive much of their expres- 
sive power, from being susceptible of the concrete movement; 
and it is one of the great sources, as will be shown hereafter, of 
Expression in the human voice. 

The several places at which we suppose the sounds to be made 
in the discrete progression, are numerically designated in the 
diagram, and are called the Places, Points, or Degrees of the 
scale. Any two degrees are, by relative position, called Prox- 
imate, when they are next to each other ; and Remote, when they 
include more than proximate degrees between them. 

The distance between any two points in the scale, either prox- 
imate or remote, is called an Interval. A musical interval was 
by the Greeks, defined to be a ' quantity of a certain kind, ter- 
minated by a graver and an acuter sound.' But for particular 
application to speech, it is necessary to regard that quantity as 
either continuous sound, or imaginary space; and to consider the 
effect of the transit of the voice from one degree of the scale to 
another, as constituting an interval, whether the voice is con- 
cretely heard, or discretely omitted between them. The intervals 
in their proximate order, are measured as follows:* 

The interval, or the quantity of concrete voice, either heard, 

tude being the concrete quantity ; for the lines, surfaces, and solids which con- 
stitute it, have their respective parts, so to speak, concreted or united immediately 
with each other: whereas Number is the discrete quantity; the distinct suc- 
cession of its constituent units being altogether different from the above de- 
scribed continuity. 

The most familiar ilustration of these terms, applied to the two kinds of 
quantity in musical sound, is furnished by the form of a lacldev^ihe side rails 
representing the concrete, and the rounds the discrete. 

* The well-informed Reader should regard this general view of the scale, and 
the manner of its ilustration, with a thoughtfulness of my design. I omit the 
theoretic distinction of greater and lesser tone, of diatonic and chromatic semi- 
tone, and of the major and minor scale, together with other particulars, both 
melodial and harmonic^ with an intention to notice only what is preparatory to 
the description of speech. 



76 DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 

or omitted, between the first and the second places, numbered in 
the diagram, is called a Tone.* 

That between the second and third is likewise a tone. 

That between the third and fourth, which appears in the dia- 
gram as but half the space of a tone, is called a Semitone. 

The interval between the fourth and fifth, fifth and sixth, sixth 
and seventh, is each a tone ; and lastly, that between the seventh, 
and the eighth or first of the next series, a semitone. 

The intervals between the degrees of the scale, either proxi- 
mate or remote, are designated numerically; the extreme degrees 
being inclusively counted. Thus", from the second to the third, 
or from the sixth to the seventh, is the interval of a second or 
tone; from the second to the sixth, or from the fourth to the 
eighth, is the interval of a fifth. And so of the rest; the nume- 
rical name of any interval being the same, when taken in an 
upward, or in a downward direction. 

Though the several discrete sounds of the scale are named 
according to their ordinal number, yet the first, relatively to its 
rising series, is generally called the Key-note. Consequently, in 
two or more series of scales, the eighth sound, or Octave as it is 
called, of the preceding is always the key-note of the succeeding 
scale; as in the vertical diagram, the sound at the eighth place 
is the octave of the first series, and the key-note of the second. 

The succession of the seven sounds of any one series, to which 
the octave is usually added, is called the Natural or Diatonic 
Scale. It consists of five tones and two semitones ; the latter 
being the intervals between its third and fourth, and its seventh 

* The Reader must bear in mind, that the word tone in this Essay, designates 
only a certain interval of pitch; though common language applies it alike to pitch, 
vocality, force and time; as in the phrases 'high and low tones of the voice,' 
'musical, rustic and silver tones;' 'an emphatic or loud tone;' and a 'delib- 
erate, quick and drawling tone.' Even music, with all its scientific precision, 
is not free from slight confusion on this point. For while it employs the word 
tone, for that interval to which we restrict its use, it also designates vocality, in 
the terms, 'tone of the flute,' and of other instruments, and the 'pure tone' of 
the vocalist. The French word timbre, corresponding to our vocality, and some- 
times applied to the voice, would, in common English pronunciation, soon get 
into downright ship timber. Let us not be 'frightened at the sound ourselves 
have made,' but call this mode of the voice, by the plain English term vocality; 
the timid recolecting, it comes from a word used by Cicero and Quinctillian. 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 77 

and eighth degrees. The scale then contains these several kinds 
of intervals^ a semitone; a second, or whole tone; a third; fourth; 
fifth; sixth; seventh; and octave. 

By the diagram, the interval between the second and fourth 
degrees is numerically a third, yet contains but one tone and a 
semitone ; whereas, that between the first and third degrees, still 
numerically the interval of a third, contains two whole tones. 
From this difference in constituency, and extent, the former is 
called a Minor Third, and the latter a Major Third. But the 
minor third never being used in correct speech, the term Third 
will in this Work, except where the minor is specified, always 
refer to the major interval. 

Having thus far, described the construction of the Musical 
Scale, I here advise the Reader, who may not be a musician, and 
who may be ignorant of the effect of the sounds of that scaler to 
ask, from some qualified master, an audible example of its upward 
and downward progression, and of its several intervals. This 
the teacher will give, under that practical exercise on the scale, 
called in the language of vocal science, Solfaing. Let the Reader 
studiously imitate this exemplification, and commit it to memory. 
If destitute of what is called a musical ear, let him not think him- 
self unable to discriminate those intervals, which he has now 
learned to be a part of music. In communities where the culti- 
vation of this art is general, these things are all learned, by 
thousands who, with their natural ear, would never have caught 
the simplest phrase of a popular song. And surely there is no 
one, into whose hands this book will ever fall, who can possibly 
avoid perceving the several differences of meaning, or expression, 
in the speaking voices when he is addressed in the language of 
narrative, surprise, complaint, authority, or interrogation. Now 
these various expressive effects are perceptible to him, and accu- 
rately so, only as concrete or discrete movements of the voice 
through certain appropriate intervals of the scale. His ear there- 
fore does really recognize these movements^ these intervals of the 
speaking scale. I only give to his mental perception and his 
tongue, their musical method and names. 

When an instructor cannot be met with, the use of a well-tuned 
Piano-Forte may assist those who have no acquaintance with the 



78 DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 

scale. On the key-board of this instrument there is a front row 
of white keys, as they are called, and a rear row of black ones. 
A representation of their forms and positions, is given in the fol- 
lowing diagram; where a portion of the Great Scale?, or as its 
whole extent is called, the Compass of the instrument; is shown; 
the white keys being numbered above, in continuation as far as 
twenty-one; and below, in a repeated series of seven. 



1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 * 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 



i in ii in huh 






12 3 4 5 6 7.1 2 3 4 5 6 7.1 2 3 4 5 6 7 



Any one of the series of seven white keys, of which there are 
three in the diagramj when struck successively ascending from 
left to right, gives the seven discrete rising sounds of the diatonic 
scale. The black keys are set between the white ones, to divide 
the whole tones into semitones. Hence, the black keys are want- 
ing at the semitonic intervals of the scale, where their purpose 
cannot apply. This omission visibly separates the black keys 
alternately into pairs and triplets. 

With the foregoing explanation, the Reader can have no diffi- 
culty in finding a diatonic series on the white keys of a Piano- 
Forte ; the key-note or beginning of the series always being 
next below the pair of black keys. Let him then, on that series 
which suits the pitch of his speaking voice, utter one of the vowels 
or any of its sylabic combinations, in unison with the instrumental 
sounds, both in their proximate succession of a tone, and in the 
wider transitions between remote degrees of the scalej till the 
whole is familiar to his ear, and at the call of memory. It is 
true, the Piano-Forte can show him only the discrete movements 
of pitch; but when these are conizable, and under command, the 
concrete may readily be measured by them. But to proceed with 
our explanation. 

The level, or protracted sound at any of the places of the dis- 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 79 

Crete scale, is called a Note. This term note, is to be carefully 
distinguished from that of Tone, which as before stated, signifies 
not a level line of sound, but a rising or falling interval of pitch ; 
and in this essay, is applied, either to the concrete transit of the 
voice between any two adjoining degrees, except those bounding 
a semitone, or to the amount of space between such degrees, 
when the transit is discrete. 

As the term tone is thus used for the interval of a second, 
under the two conditions of concrete and discrete pitch, so are 
the terms of other intervals included between remote degrees ; 
for the voice may move concretely through these intervals, or 
notes may be made at their bounding degrees, with the omission 
of the concrete. Let us call the former of these conditions, Con- 
crete Intervals, and the latter, Discrete Intervals: one being, 
figuratively, a rising or falling stream of voice, the other a voice- 
less space. 

The first, third, and fifth notes of the diatonic scale, to which 
the octave, as a concording repetition of the first is usually added, 
differ from the other notes in being more agreeable to the ear 
when heard in combination, and in immediate succession. The 
degrees in this order, are ^lso more readily 'hit' by an inex- 
perienced voice, in an endeavor to execute the several discrete 
intervals of the scale : and that simple instrument the Jews-harp, 
and some species of the Horn more readily yield these successive 
notes, under the faltering attempts of a learner. When there- 
fore the pupil takes his lesson on the scale, let him familiarize 
his ear to the succession of its first, third, fifth and octave notes ; 
omitting the intermediate degrees. Frequent reference will be 
made hereafter, to his perceptions on this point. 

I give a representation of the manner in which musicians 
set their symbols for the diatonic sounds, on that linear Table 
called the Staff. The staff consists of five horizontal and parallel 
lines, having four spaces between them. Each space and line 
represents a degree of the scale; so that from one space or line 
to the next line or space, is a second; and these degrees are called 
conjoint or proximate. When the discrete movement is over a 
wider interval than a second, it is called a Skip ; and the degrees 
are said to be Remote. The succession of the scale is here marked 



80 DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 

by disks, rising from the lowest line to the highest space of the 
staff; the intervals of the semitones being designated by a brace. 



~z: 



-&- 



ML 



I have thus endeavored to describe the continuous or Concrete 
movement of sound; and its discrete or interrupted progression 
through the diatonic scale. 

As there are but two semitones in the scale, it is necessary, 
for the accommodation of instruments with fixed keys, to subdi- 
vide the whole tones. The manner of the subdivision may be 
thus described.* 

In any series of seven notes, as the first marked in the pre- 
ceding vertical diagram of the scale, and in that of the white 
keys of the key-board, let us assume for this subdivision of whole 
tones, the Fifth, as the first or key-note of a new order. This 
with its octave, will extend to the place numbered twelve. Six 
of its places in their rising order of notes, from five to ten, will 
have right positions ; and thus far, the intervals of tone and semi- 
tone will exhibit the proper successions of the diatonic scale. But 
the interval between the tenth and eleventh is a semitone, and 
that between the eleventh and twelfth a tone; whereas, by the 
rule for constructing the scale, the order should be reversed. For 
the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth notes marked in the diagrams, 
are respectively the sixth, seventh, and eighth of the new order, 
assumed from the fifth. When therefore the tone, or interval 
from eleven to twelve, is subdivided into two semitones, as shown 

* As the Reader has learned above, the form, and places of the semitone, it is 
not essential that he should strictly attend to the detailed explanation, in the 
two following paragraphs ; for most of it is not applicable to speech. I say 
this, only in reference to his finding it difficult. In letting him know, there is 
a succession of degrees, called the Semitonic Scale, I describe the manner of its 
construction; for with a knowledge of this, his views of the relations between 
Music and Speech will be more extended and precise. Let him then learn it, 
if not too troublesome^ being mindful to read the last two sentences of the 
second paragraph. 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 81 

by a cross in the vertical diagram, and by a black key below the 
star in that of the key-boardj and the transit is then made from 
the tenth place, to this point of division^ two semitones, making 
one whole tone, are passed over; the interval from this point of 
division to the twelfth is a semitone, and thus the constituent in- 
tervals of the diatonic scale in this new order, are obtained. 

To continue a subdivision of the whole tones of the scale, by 
rising a fifth on the previous order, would soon carry us beyond 
the limit of our diagrams. But we must observe, that the fifth 
above a key-note, holds the same relative position in a scale, as 
the fourth below it. If then, for the key-note of a third order, 
we take the fifth above the key-note of the second order, or the 
fourth below it, they will be respectively the ninth and the second 
of the diagrams; and these are considered the same, because they 
each have the like position of second in the two orders, of the 
key-board. Thus a subdivision of the whole tone, between the 
fifteenth and sixteenth, on the key-board, if the fifth above is 
taken, or between the eighth and ninth if the fourth belowj will, 
with the subdivision in the preceding order, give the constituent 
diatonic intervals of this third order. And progressively, by 
taking the fifth above the key-note of the previous order, or 
the fourth below itj and using the previous subdivisions, every 
place of the scale may become the first of an order; and every 
whole tone may thereby be divided, as shown by the black keys 
in the diagram of the key-board. This division produces a series 
of semitones. When therefore the progression is made by them, 
the order of degrees is called the Semitonic, or more commonly 
the Chromatic Scale. 

But it is necessary for the future history of speech, that the 
succession of discrete sounds should be exhibited under still more 
reduced divisions. These consist in a discrete transition through 
the scale, by intervals much smaller than a semitone; each point 
being as it were, rapidly touched by a momentary and abrupt 
emission of voice. This description may be ilustrated by the 
manner of that noise in the throat called gurgling, and by the 
neighing of a horse. The analogy here regards principally the 
momentary duration, frequency, and abruptness of sound; for 
the gurgling is generally made by a quick iteration on one urn- 



82 DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 

varying or level line of pitch. But in the scale now under con- 
sideration, each successive pulse of sound is taken at a Minute 
Discrete-interval above the last, till the series reaches the octave. 
We cannot tell the precise extent of this minute interval, nor the 
number of pulses in given portions of the scale ; since this func- 
tion is executed in a manner, and with a rapidity that eludes dis- 
crimination. Nor is this point material now. My purpose requires 
it to be known, that the voice may rise and fall, with short and 
abrupt iterations, through the several intervals of pitch, by dis- 
crete steps, less than a semitone. Whether the discrete space is 
that fractional part of a tone called a comma, or some division or 
multiple of it, we leave to be determined by other means than 
that of the ear alone. Let us then call this species of movement, 
the Tremulous Scale. 

We have described four kinds of progression in pitch; and 
though in speaking of the concrete, its slide was not called a 
scale, since its unbroken line has no analogy with the inter- 
rupted steps of a discrete succession; yet with a full comprehen- 
sion of its construction, there can be no objection to its being so 
called. 

There are then Four scales of pitch. The Concrete; in which, 
from the outset to the termination of the voice, either in rising or 
falling, there is no appreciable interval, or interruption of con- 
tinuity. 

The Diatonic; wherein the discrete transitions are principally 
by whole tones. 

The Chromatic; consisting of a discrete succession of semi- 
tones: and, 

The Tremulous ; which with its momentary impulses, separated 
from each other by very minute intervals^ has never, as far as I 
know, been employed on musical instruments, in an upward and 
a downward progression; the tremolo being a tremor on a straight 
line of pitch ; and the Trill or Shake being as will be shown here- 
after, a totally distinct function. 

The extent through which the speaking voice is used in any of 
these four scales, within the limits of distinct articulation, is called 
the Compass of Speech.* 

* There is a musical scale, described by the Greeks, but used only at an early 
period, called the Enharmonic; which however, has no relation to the natural 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 83 

For the purpose of explanation, the scales have been repre- 
sented separately, though in the practice of the voice they are 

system of speech; yet from the term 'Enharmonic voice,' employed without 
explanation by Dionysius Thrax, a Greek grammarian, who lived shortly before 
the Christian era^ it seems to have been infered, that the spoken intonation of 
the Ancients was somehow formed on this scale: and though Mr. Steele suffered 
his observation to be so far overruled by the vague authority of this inference, 
as to give the diagram of his proposed scale with what he calls an enharmonic 
division^ perhaps a short account of this division, may convince the Reader, as 
we procede, that it could not have been employed in the proper intonation of 
what we shall consider Natural speech. 

The Greek musical scale consisted of only three intervals, embraced between 
four degrees, as marked by the strings of their instruments, and was therefore 
called the Tetrachord. The moderns have made their scale an Octachord, or 
Octave, by joining two successive Greek scales, with a tone between them: for 
in our octave, from C to F, and again from G to C, each of the two sets of four 
degrees, has the like order of their constituent tones and semitones; showing 
that the tetrachord scale is just half of ours. Our music employs but one 
proper scale, the diatonic; for the chromatic is not an independent one, on 
which a melody can be made with its semitones alone; but is formed, for occa- 
sional use, by dividing the whole tonesj that the semitones may be employed in 
other places, than the two which are proper to them, in the natural diatonic 
succession. Neither in music nor in song, do we technically recognize the 
Concrete and the Tremulous Scales: and it was the same with the Greeks. 

The Greek writers describe six different scales ; three chromatic ; two dia- 
tonic; and one enharmonic, formed respectively, by certain subdivisions of the 
scale into intervals of different extent. For ilustration however, we will de- 
scribe only, what they called the Intense diatonic, and the Enharmonic. Sup- 
pose the Tetrachord to be divided into sixty parts; and let C, D, E and F 
be the places, or degrees, including its three intervals ; 24 to represent the 
tone; 12 the semitone; and 6 the quarter-tone, called diesis, or the enharmonic 
interval. The Intense-diatonic Tetrachord, which is, when doubled, and united 
by a tone, the same we now employe was arranged as follows: 



C Tone. D Tone. E Semitone. 

21 24 12 

The Enharmonic tetrachord thus: 



C Ditone. D Diesis. E Diesis. F 

48 6 6 

Now as 48, the double of 24, make two tones; and six, the fourth or quarter 
of 24, the diesis; the enharmonic arrangement is that of a ditone or major third 
and two successive quarter-tones. 

The Greeks themselves state, that the musical use of this scale was vei'y dif- 
ficult; and in later times was altogether laid aside: neither of which, as cause 
or consequence, could have occurred if there had been a natural character in it; 



84 DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 

variously united; speech making use of them all. The con- 
crete is always found; and we shall hereafter learn in what 
manner the diatonic, chromatic, and tremulous scales are con- 
nected with it. 

The term 31elody is, in music, applied to a regulated vocal or 
to an instrumental use of the diatonic and chromatic scales. The 
full meaning of the term embraces the further relations of time, 
rythmus, and pause. I here speak of pitch alone. That effect 
in music called melody, is produced by the use of the seven notes 
of the scale, in any agreeable order of their possible permuta- 
tions, either in a Proximate or -Skipping progression. We shall 
learn hereafter, that the Melody of Speech is founded on a like 
principle of varied intervals ; yet with peculiarities, arising from 

for certainly, a continued tune on a succession of its intervals would, to a 
modern and natural ear, until fashion should recommend it, be altogether inef- 
fective, or very abominable. Consistently with this view, we shall learn here- 
after, that speech makes no specifically distinct nor appreciable use of the quar- 
ter-tone: showing how the history of the human voice has in this as in so many 
other ways, been falsified and confused. 

The other four scales seem to have had no more of a natural condition, than 
the Enharmonic; and this leads to the conclusion, that like ourselves, the Greeks 
used the diatonic as the only scale for agreeable melody, and for any harmony 
they may have known and practiced. 

But why should all the Greek writers have named their other scales, if they 
never used them ? This we cannot answer: though we might class the ques- 
tion with the whole design of their metaphysics, which was to dream, write, and 
wrangle about things, never to be used or even comprehended. But laying 
aside, for a moment, our prescribed rules for observing, reflecting, and writing, 
we will offer a passing conjecture and no more, upon it. 

Since the ear for music, like the eye for Euclid's circle and square, and the 
tongue for wormwood and honey, is the same now, that it was among the 
Greeks^ we can account for their being satisfied with their unnatural scales, by 
supposing^ First; that a few particular phrases of ritual chants, or of choral 
responses^ formed out of the peculiar succession of the notes of these scales, 
on some early and imperfect instrument-^ were so closely connected with the 
Temple Service, the Sacrifice, or the Procession, or with a Popular Obstinacy 
in some rude vocal habit, as to reconcile the ear to any oddity and dissonance. 
Or, second ; by supposing, the unnatural melodies or successions on these scales, 
to be traditions of the canting shouts of barbarian Festivals, originally excited 
by some wild religious working on the voices after its manner of working on 
the eye, in making to itself, without a revolting of truth or taste, the graven 
image of its Gods, in every outrageous contortion of the human form. But these 
conjectures are apart from the design of this Work. 



DIVISION'S AND EXPLANATIONS. 85 

a systematic use of its concrete, discrete, and tremulous move- 
ments, and from its not being affected by the doctrine of what in 
music is called, Key. 

The term Key is applied to each of the several orders of the 
diatonic scale, on musical instruments. And as it appears by the 
diagram of the key-board, that the Semitonic divisions of the 
whole tones of the scale make twelve places^ from each of which 
a diatonic succession may be arrangedj so the scale of the piano- 
forte admits of twelve different keys; and these being subdivided 
into Flat and Sharp Keys, make twenty-four in all; but these 
have no regard to speech. The first note of the succession is 
called as we said formerly, the key-note. The relationship of this 
to the other notes of the scale is such, that a melody will appear 
unfinished, if its last sound be not the key-note of the scale, or 
the octave to it* which is its nearest concord. 

It is a condition in music, that a melody formed of the varied 
permutations of the notes of any one key, shall not employ the 
constituent notes of another. Thus in the vertical diagram, there 
is the first order, with its key-note at number one; and a second 
with its key-note at five. To form this second order we divided 
the tone between the eleventh and twelfth pointsj to obtain the 
second semitone of the diatonic scale; and it appears that all the 
notes are common to the two orders, except the seventh of the 
second, marked eleven in the diagram. But a melody or tune 
begun on the first order, cannot employ that eleventh, and be 
agreeable to the ear, except with a design to leave the first order, 
and afterwards to carry on the tune altogether by the order of 
the second. This transition from one order to another is called 
Modulation, or Changing the key. It is employed in vocal and 
instrumental music, but is not applicable to speech. 

The term Intonation signifies the act of performing the move- 
ments of pitch through any interval of the several scales, whether 
in speech, in song, or in instrumental use. It therefore regards, 
only the changes of sound between acuteness and gravity. Into- 
nation is said to be correct or true, when the discrete steps, or 
concrete slides over the intended interval are made with exact- 
ness. True intonation in speech means further* the just use 
of its intervals, for denoting the states of mind in thought and 



86 DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 

passion. Deviation from this precision is called, singing, or play- 
ing, and it may be hereafter, Speaking out of tune.* 

The term Cadence in music, means, a consummation of the 
desire for a full close in the melody, by the resting of its last 
sound in the key-note. It "will be shown hereafter, that the 
cadence or close of speech is effected in a different manner. 

I have thus endeavored to prepare the Reader for all that 
relates to the science and nomenclature of music, in the following 
description of speech. When a full knowledge of the modes, 
forms, and uses of the voice will have become familiar, through 
general instruction and practice, the Art of Speaking will seem 
to offer less difficulty, by having an admitted system and nomen- 
clature of its own. Now, we are obliged to study another art, to 
make an Art of it. 

In whatever way a pupil may learn or be taught to recognize 
and to execute the intervals of the scale, let me here again call 
his attention to the necessity of making himself familiar with a 
perception of the concrete and discrete movementj when formed 
not only on simple vowel sounds, but on sylables, the common 
ground of intonation in speech. Let the pupil then, on any syl- 
able capable of prolongation, rise concretely, from the first degree 
of the scale, to the octave; and from this, immediately return 
concretely to the first degree, while the effect of the extent of the 
rising octave remains upon the ear. In like manner, let him 
ascend and descend through the concrete fifth, third, second, and 
semitone. 

* Instead of the term Intonation, which embraces in music, the doctrine of 
intervals, and their exact execution^ the words Inflection and Modulation have 
been used by writers, to express only a general and obscure perception of some 
variation of pitch, in the speaking voice. So entirely have they seemed to over- 
look the analogy between the scale of music, and of speech, that the English 
term Intonation, which has been used in the former art, at least a century, to 
denote the precise recognition of intervals^ is not, with this meaning, to be found, 
as far as I can learn, in any of the numberless books on elocution, published 
within this period. Mr. Sheridan incidentally employs this term; but with no 
reference to intervals and their expression, and only in the indefinite meaning 
of the phrase^ 'tones of the voice.' Baily restricts intonation soley to music. 
Dr. Johnson limits it to the 'act of thundering.' In application to speech, it is 
at last finding its way into Dictionaries. I need not say, how often, the descrip- 
tion of speech, founded on the identity of its intervals with those of music, will 
hereafter require the use of this term. 



DIVISIONS AND EXPLANATIONS. 87 

For acquiring familiarity with the discrete intervals of speech, 
the intonation should be performed by means of two sylables. 
Thus, taking the word gaily, let the pupil begin at the first degree 
of the scale, with gai, and by a skip, strike the octave with ly: 
then, in immediate return, while memory of the interval serves 
him, take gai at the octave, and descend to the first, on ly. In 
a similar manner, let the voice be exercised on the discrete fifth, 
third, second, and semitone. 

Facility in executing the concrete semitonic movement of 
speech, is to be attained by plaintively repeating the interjection 
ah, both ascending and descending, between the seventh and 
eighth degrees of the diatonic scale. 

The pupil will acquire a ready command over the tremulous 
intonation, by practicing the characteristic tremor of this scale, 
through the semitone with a plaintive expression, and with laugh- 
ter, or exultation, through the other intervals. 

By frequent practice of these several intonations on single syl- 
ables, the voice will be prepared for the precise use of intervals, 
in the sylabic successions of speech. 

The preceding explanations have been extended rather beyond 
what is absolutely necessary, for comprehending the proper 
science of Analytic Elocution, now to be first set-forth. Thus 
the function of Key and of Modulation in music, has been de- 
scribed with some care, although speech is not constructed upon 
the principles of either. It may not however, be uninteresting 
to some inquirers, to know wherein the differences of the cases 
consist. 

The term Elocution is applied throughout this Work to signify 
the vocal Representation of thought and passion; and properly 
includes every form of correct Reading, and of Public, and Colo- 
quial Speech. And yet we shall, by license, often apply the 
terms Reading and Speaking, each as that of Elocution, to desig- 
nate the whole of the Art. The words Recitation, Delivery, and 
Declamation, as well as those designating public Places, and Pro- 
fessions, are not here technically, if at all, employed in reference 
to vocal character. Styles of elocution may differ, within the 
rule for justly denoting passion and thought ; and this rule should 
direct alike the style of the Advocate, the Witness, and the Judge; 



88 THE RADICAL AND 

of the Pulpit, the Stage and the Senate; of the Stump-orator; 
and of the varied voices of conversation. Had there been a more 
abundant and precise knowledge, of how language should be 
spoken, there would have been much less said of the Person and 
the Place. 

If I should employ the term Reading-aloud, it will not be in 
contradistinction to ocular perusal. To read, as a term of Elocu- 
tion, always means to read-aloud. I may however use the term 
Silent Reading, to signify, not ocular perusal^ but the future 
mental reading of a notation on the staff of speech; in like man- 
ner as the notes of music are silently read on the staff of song, 
by the vocalist, and composer; for I shall endeavor hereafter to 
show, that a knowledge of the constituents and principles of sci- 
entific speech, is as attainablej and an application of them, as 
practicable and easyj as in the case of scientific music. I adopt 
from the old Elocutionist, the term 'Reading- well,' and preserve 
it, as a memorial of the style even of his school, having generally 
been so bad, that it became necessary to distinguish an occasional 
individual from the herd, by his accomplishment in Reading-well. 

I feel how perplexing it is, I was about to say, it is impossible 
by description alone, to render the separate parts of a science, so 
well divided in method yet so closely related in detail, as that of 
music, clearly inteligible. If what has been said, will enable 
the Reader to perceve the system and particulars of the Pour 
Scales, and to execute them, he will not have much difficulty in 
pursuing our further history of a new and beautiful Physical 
Science of the Human Voice. 



SECTION II. 

Of the Radical and Vanishing movement of the voice; and its 
different forms in Speech, Song, and Recitative. 

We have been willing to beleve, on faith alone, that Nature is 
wise in the ordination of speech. Let us now show by our works 



VANISHING MOVEMENT. 5y 

of analysis, in what manner, and with what a perfection of economy, 
that cannot surpass itself, she manages the simple constituents of 
the voice, in the production of their unbounded combinations.* 

When the letter a, as heard in the word day, is pronounced 
simply as an alphabetic element, without intensity or emotion, 
and as if it were a continuation, not a close of utterance, two 
dipthongal sounds are heard continuously successive. The first 
has the nominal sound of this letter, and issues with a certain 
degree of fulness. The last is the element e, as heard in eve, 
gradually diminishing to an attenuated close. During the pro- 
nunciation, the voice rises continuously by the concrete move- 
ment through the interval of a tone or second; the beginning of 
a, and the termination of e, being severally the inferior and supe- 
rior extremes of that tone. The character of this concrete rise 
is visibly represented in the first of the following diagrams. But 
as a curvature of lines seems to afford a more graceful analogy 
to the peculiar effect of the vocal concrete, it will through this 
Work appear as in the second. 





As the above description may not, from the limited extent of 
the concrete, its delicate structure, and momentary duration, be 

* As I profess, in this Work, to draw the history of the human voice, alto- 
gether from observation by the ear, and experiment with the tongue, it will be 
convenient, and even necessary^ from the constant reference to the combined 
agencies that make up the system of speech^ to have some brief term to desig- 
nate what we suppose to be the directive principle, or general agent over these 
subordinate and perceptible agencies. I have therefore in the text, adopted an 
abstract sign for all these agencies, and their effects^ in the word Nature; a 
word often taken in error, and in vain, but not yet obsolete. This Term, this 
Nature^ I use every where, and always with the same meaning when personified, 
as the representative of an all-sufficient, and ever-present system of causes; 
which in the broad wisdom of its ordination, and universal consistency of its 
effects, is the bright and unchanging example of truth, and right, and goodness, 
and beauty; and worthy of unceasing study and imitation^ for beginning, with- 
out delusive hopes, the intelectual, the political, the moral, and esthetic refine- 
ment of man. 



00 THE RADICAL AND 

at once recognized, I shall endeavor to throw some particular 
light of explanation upon it. 

That the sound denoted by the letter a, thus uttered concretely, 
has the dipthongal character, will be obvious on deliberately 
drawing out this single element, as a question put with great 
surprise. For in this case, its commencement is what I have 
called the nominal a> and its termination in e, at a high pitch, is 
no less distinguishable. 

By the same use of an earnest interrogation, the fulness, or 
greater volume of sound upon a, and the diminishing close in e, 
will be obvious to an attentive ear. Nor is it improbable^ the 
feebleness of this last constituent of a, in ordinary pronunciation, 
is at least one cause, why the dipthongal structure of this element 
has never, as far as I know, been perceved, or described. 

That a, uttered simply as the head of the alphabet, without 
remarkable expression, and as a continuation, not a close of 
speechj does ascend through the concrete interval of a tone, will 
be manifest to the Reader, by his ability to intonate the diatonic 
scale. For let him ascend discretely, by the alternate use of a 
and e, prolonging each as a note, and making a slight pause be- 
tween them. This will render him familiar with the relationship 
of the two elements, when heard on the extremes of a tone: as 
ilustrated by the following diagram; where from line to line is 



E- 



one degree, or a tone of the scale; where the oval figures with 
their attenuated rising terminations, represent respectively the 
level or protracted note, with its final, faint, and rapid concrete 
issue in e; and where the different sizes of the subscribed letters 
may show the proportional duration and volume of voice, in the 
different parts of each impulse of pronunciation. 

Then let him ascend the scale, by a kind of union of the con- 
crete and discrete progressions; that is, by beginning with a, 



VANISHING MOVEMENT. 



91 



slightly prolonged, and proceding to e, in the second place, 
without breaking the continuity of sound; and thence after 
slightly prolonging e, passing concretely to a, in the third place, 
as ilustrated by the following diagram; where full notes are con- 
nected by slender concretes. This practice will make him familiar 
with the effect of a concrete rise through a tone, when the upper 
extreme is rendered remarkable, by the stress and prolongation 
it receves at the second place of the scale. 




A- 



-E- 



Supposing the concrete interval of a tone to be distinguish- 
able, when thus uttered with a full volume of sound on the two 
extremes a and e, or with what may be called a double stress or 
stress on the two extremes of the concrete^ it may be proved in 
the following manner, that the simple utterance of a in day, 
passes through the same interval. Let the a and e be repeatedly 
pronounced with this double stress, united by the weaker con- 
crete, till the effect of the interval is for the moment impressed 
upon the ear. Then let the stress on e be gradually diminished 
in the repetition; as ilustrated by the series of symbols in the 
following diagram. The audible effect of the last of the series, 




-E A — e A— e A- 



A. 



even with a total cessation of the upper stress, will in intonation, 
so resemble, yet faintly, the double stress on the first, that the 
cases will be admitted as identical. The tone being then plainly 
conizable as the first interval of the scale, when both extremes 
receve the stress^ so in returning to the simple pronunciation of 



92 THE RADICAL AND 

a, by gradually diminishing the stress at its upper extremity, the 
perception of this interval will be kept up through the progress of 
the change. In the above experiment we have, to suit the order 
of our history, begun with the limited interval of a tone; but for 
proof of the concrete function, it will be more obvious when made 
on the expressive interval of the fifth or octave. 

If there should be a doubt, as to the extent of the concrete 
interval, let stress be applied at its summit. When the interval 
is a tone, the two stressed sounds will form the first two notes of 
the diatonic scale; for with a little experience, the course of this 
scale can always be recognized,- in the execution of its first and 
second degrees. 

The simple dipthongal sound of a, without the summit-stress, 
does then, as we have ilustrated it, pass through the concrete in- 
terval of a tone or second; the movement being divided between 
the sounds of a and e, the first gliding into the last. But as the 
distinction here refers to the extent of the interval traversed, to 
its upward direction, and to its concrete progress^ it is necessary 
to utter the literal element, without the least expression; for if it 
be with plaintiveness, surprise, or interrogation or as a positive 
command, the concrete will be some other interval than the tone; 
this tone or second, being the manner of uttering simple thought, 
exclusively of passion. 

The peculiar structure of the concrete movement led to the 
division of it by terms, into two parts; and the use of these 
terms, for explanatory purposes in the following history, will show 
their propriety. 

I have called the first part of the concrete, or that of a, in the 
above instance, the Radical movement; since, with a full be- 
ginning or opening, the subsequent and diminishing portion of 
the concrete procedes from it as from a base or root. 

I have called the last part, or that of e, in the example, the 
Vanishing movement, from its becoming gradually weaker as it 
rises, and finally dying away in the upper extreme of the tone. 

It must strike the Reader, that the above terms can have only a 
general reference to the two extremes of the concrete^ for the 
gradual change of the radical into the vanish prevents our assign- 
ing an exact point of distinction between them. 



VANISHING MOVEMENT. 93 

When a single vowel sound, capable of prolongation, is uttered 
with propriety and smoothness, and without emotion, it com- 
mences full and somewhat abruptly, and gradually decreases in 
its upward movement, until it becomes inaudible; having the in- 
crements of time and rise, and the decrements of fulness, equably 
progressive. Or, supposing a gradual diminution of fulness, in 
the gradual rise through a tone to be effected in a given timej one 
half or smaller fraction of that rise and diminution will be ef- 
fected in one half or smaller fraction of that time. Let us call 
this form of the radical and vanishing movement, the Equable 
Concrete. 

The varied forms of the vocal function in Song and Recita- 
tive, may ilustrate the character of this equability in the into- 
nation of speech. 

The long-drawn voice of one continued pitch, heard in song 
and recitative, is produced in two ways. 

First ; by giving a greater proportion of time and volume to 
one continuous and level line of sound, in the radical place; and 
by subsequently rising concretely, lightly, and rapidly, through 
the superior portion of the interval. Let us call this, the Pro- 
tracted Radical. 

Second; by rising concretely, lightly, and rapidly through the 
inferior portion of the interval, and then prolonging the voice 
with greater volume, on a level line at the highest point of the 
vanish. Let us call this, the Protracted Vanish. 

Thus far, intonation exhibits three modifications of the radical 
and vanishing movement: The Equable Concrete of speech; the 
Protracted Radical, and the Protracted Vanish, both of which 
are used in song and recitative. We shall learn, as we procede, 
the various relationships of the concrete to all the simple and 
compounded intervals, to the alphabetic elements, to time, and to 
force. 

I.have spoken of the radical and vanishing movement through 
a tone, to explain by that interval, the formation of the concrete 
rise, and its threefold division. But in taking a wider survey of 
the subject, we learn> the radical and vanish is made on every 
other interval. 

Ascending concretely, from the seventh to the eighth degree 



94 THE RADICAL AND 

of the scale, by a and e, in the manner of the second diagram 
on the ninety-first page, that is, by laying a stress on the two 
extremes of this interval^ the voice has a plaintive character, 
very different from that of the tone, or interval between the 
first and second. The interval from the seventh to the eighth 
place of the diatonic scale, is a semitone. This plaintive con- 
crete therefore, when attenuated, and made equable by gradu- 
ally diminishing the stress at its upper extreme, shown in the 
successive symbols of that diagram^ is the radical and vanishing 
or equable concrete movement of a semitone. 

Again, in ascending concretely upon a and e, from the first to 
the third place of the scale, with a stress on e, in that third place, 
the effect of this continuous movement differs from that of the 
tone, and the semitone; for it resembles a moderate degree of in- 
terrogation on the element a. This concrete, when attenuated or 
made equable, by gradually diminishing the stress at its upper 
extreme, is the radical and vanishing or equable concrete move- 
ment of a third. 

By a process analogous to that just proposed, for distinguish- 
ing the interval of a third, we may ascertain the concrete move- 
ment of a fifth, and of an octave; for these, with stress at their 
upper extremes, have earnest interrogative expressions. Then 
by diminishing the stress, directed in the former cases, we have 
respectively, the equable radical and vanishing movements of the 
fifth and octave. 

In this manner, the ear perceves in their varied characters, the 
several vocal movements of an equable Rising radical and vanish- 
ing semitone, of a tone or second, of a major third, a fifth, and 
an octave. These intervals have their proper significations in 
the expression of speech, and will be particularly noticed here- 
after. 

The above description represents the Concrete rise of the 
several intervals. But the Discrete scale is likewise used in 
speech; and its skipping intervals are, perhaps, as readily dis- 
tinguishable as the gliding intervals of the concrete. When 
therefore we are able to ascend the discrete steps of the diatonic 
scale, in proximate succession, and to recognize its wider in- 



VANISHING MOVEMENT. 95 

tervals, we have only to mark, by some vowel-sound, the first and 
second, and the seventh and eighth degrees of the scale, and thus 
to form respectively the discrete rising tone or second, and the 
semitone. In like manner by skipping through the other in- 
tervals, we shall have a discrete rising third, fifth, and octave. 

Let us consider another condition of the radical and vanish. 
We have viewed the concrete of the voice only in its rising pro- 
gress. There is a similar glide in a doivnward direction respect- 
ively through all the intervals of the scale. In this downward 
form of the concrete, we take the scale numerically, as in its up- 
ward course; the like number of degrees constituting intervals of 
the same name, in each direction. For this descending progress, 
music employs the terms, a second, third, fifth, and octave, below ; 
whereas, for the intonations of speech, I shall generally use the 
adjective-term downward, or descending, or falling, to denote this 
direction on the scale. Refering then to our former experiments, 
if the bow be drawn while the finger is moving continuously, from 
the eighth place on the string to any distance downward, it will 
produce a concrete descending sound. In this way, the falling 
concrete will have the described properties of the rising radical 
and vanish, with this difference only-; the radical, if it may now be 
so called, is here at the summit of the interval, while the vanish 
equably diminishes to its lower extreme. To render the extent 
of a downward interval perceptible, let the stress be applied to the 
extremity of its descending vanish, and then in repetition gradu- 
ally diminished, as ilustrated by the second diagram, on the 
ninety-first page, when taken in an inverted position, from right 
to left. Thus exemplified, the movement from a, at the eighth 
degree of the scale, to e, in the seventh, will give the downward 
equable-concrete semitone; from the second to the first, the down- 
ward-equMe-tone ; and in this manner, a descent from the third, 
fifth, and eighth degree, respectively to the first, will give the 
downward radical and vanishing or equable-concrete third, fifth, 
and octave. 

The downward movement is likewise made in the discrete pro- 
gression. This may be readily heard on the Piano, and other 
instruments with a scale of fixed degreesj by striking in succes- 



96 THE RADICAL AND 

sion, the extreme notes of the required interval; and in the voice, 
by a unison-imitation of these instrumental sounds, upon vowels 
or sylablesj thereby exemplifying a downward discrete octave, 
fifth, third, second, and semitone. 

He who is acquainted with the musical scale, but has not yet 
considered it with reference to speech, may ascertain the upward 
course of the tone and of the semitone, on a vowel, by comparing 
their effects respectively with those of the first and last interval 
of the rising scale. In like manner, he may know the downward 
course of the semitone and of the tone, by comparing them re- 
spectively with the first and the last interval of the descending 
scale. Every one knows a plaintive expression in speech; it is 
easy therefore to recognize a semitone. And perhaps there is 
not too much confidence in asserting, that before the attentive 
and competent Reader has finished this essay, he will have no 
more difficulty in discriminating every other important interval of 
the rising and falling scale. 

I say nothing here of a concrete radical and vanishing fourth, 
sixths and seventh; nor of wider ranges than the octave; nor of 
the discrete movement through these intervals; not that the voice 
in an upward and a downward course does not use them, but that 
a reference to the third, fifth, and octave, is sufficiently precise 
for the purpose of our history. 

Besides the above-described forms of the concrete and discrete 
movements, both in an upward and downward direction, there is 
a continuous course of the rising into the falling concrete^ and 
reversely, a continuity of the falling into the rising. This form 
of the radical and vanish will be particularly noticed hereafter 
under the name of the Wave. We will call it Direct, when the 
first interval ascends, and the second descends; Inverted, when 
this order of the intervals is reversed; Equal, when the rising 
and the falling are in extent the same; and Unequal, when dif- 
ferent. It is called Single, when two intervals only are thus 
joined: Double, when another is subjoined to the second of the 
single form : and Continued, when the number of flexures excede 
the double. The wave is made through all the intervals of the 
scale; and its different forms may be variously united with each 



VANISHING MOVEMENT. 97 

other. Thus it may be double-direct, unequal direct, double-un- 
equal, and in short, its intervals may be in all possible combi- 
nations. 

But I have not yet finished the preparatory explanations. The 
simple radical and vanish may, in its rise and its fall, receve a 
Fulness or Force, or accentual stress, under the six following 
forms. First. The radical of the equable movement, as previously 
shown, is distinguished from the rest of the concrete, by its initial 
stress. Second. While the proportion of radical to vanish re- 
mains unaltered, the whole equable concrete may be magnified by 
unusual force. Third. The voice may be swelled, on a concrete, 
or on a wave, to an impressive fulness, at the middle of its course. 
Fourth. There may be an unusual stress at each extremity of the 
concrete. Fifth. While the radical is reduced in fulness, the 
vanishing extremity may have a forcible termination. Sixth. The 
concrete or the wave may have the fulness and force of the radical 
throughout its whole extent. As there will be frequent occasions 
to discriminate between these accentual conditions of the radical 
and vanish, and its equable structure, I shall employ the phrase 
Simple Concrete, to distinguish the latter from its variations 
by force or fulness, at its several points or on the whole of its 
course. 

I have in the present and the preceding section endeavored to 
take a general survey of the five modes of Yocality, Time, Force, 
Abruptness, and Pitchj preparatory to a detail of their respective 
forms, varieties, and degrees, in denoting the states and purposes 
of the mind; and shall hereafter make a division of these states 
and purposes, into that of plain unexcited Thought, and that of 
the expressive degrees of Passion; particularly describing the 
vocal sign appropriate to each. 

The following diagrams may ilustrate the various foregoing 
descriptions. The lines and spaces denote places of pitch; the 
proximate succession of line and space being that of a second or 
tone. These lines and spaces differ from the staff of the musical 
system ; the latter being founded on the diatonic scale, denotes in 
certain places, the interval of a semitone; whereas the lines and 
spaces for the notation of speech signify always, the succession of 



98 THE RADICAL AND 

a tone, except otherwise specified. The full black symbols on 
these lines and spaces, with their issuing and tapering appendages 
of various extent, represent the opening fulness, direction, and 
diminution of the radical and vanishing movement. The distances 
between the radicals of the concrete seconds, thirds, fifths, and 
octaves, severally represent the discrete intervals. Time is re- 
presented as in music: the open elipse signifying the longest: 
the small head and stem, with its two hooks to denote the dura- 
tion of the vanish, being in this case, the sixteenth part of the 
open elipse. Except for the protracted radical, and vanish, the 
notation of Time will not be here employed. A use of the measur- 
able relations of Time, with the proportional value of its symbols, 
is indispensable to the melodial rythmus, and. to the concerted 
harmonies of music. But speech being a solo of intonation, and 
requiring no conformity in time with other voices^ the use of 
Quantity on successive sylables, is left to the thought or passion 
which directs the appropriate utterance. 

These diagrams represent three of the five modes of the voicej 
Pitch, Abruptness, and Time. Vocality has never, to my knowl- 
edge, had a symbol either in music or speech: yet there is no 
cause why it might not and should not, when remarkable in its 
differences, be so represented. Force is vaguely indicated by the 
usual grammatical marks for accent and emphasis, and by italic 
type. But should this analysis and system be ever generally 
adopted; and the purposes of speech require itj appropriate sym- 
bols for Vocality, Force, and Time, may without much difficulty 
be connected with the forms of the equable concrete, and the 
wave. 



VANISHING MOVEMENT. 



99 



I have not given symbols for the concrete and discrete minor 
third, and semitone, since their representation on the staff may he 
easily made. 



Concrete 
Rising 
Tone. 

1 Concrete 


Tone. 

Concrete 
Rising 
Third. 


1 Concrete 
* Downward 
Third. 

Protracted 


Radical. 

Protracted 

Vanish. 


1 / i^ 1 1 T I <^A 1 .JO. 


Concrete || 
Rising 
Fifth. 


Concrete 
Downward ■ a 
Fifth. i 

Concrete 
Rising 
Octave. 

( 

Concrete 
Downward 
Octave. ^j— 






s 


m 


( 


*l 


( 


f 


i fll 


V 


. 1 


f 


or 




Jk 


V 


Equal-single-di- 
rect wave of the 
second. 

Equal-single-in- 


fifth. 

Unequal single- 
direct, of the fifth 
and third. 

Unequal-inverted, 
of the third and . 
Octave. * 

Double-equal- 
direct, of the 
Third. 

Double-unequal- 
inverted, of the 
third, fifth, and 
third. 


4& i 


^ -fey-^^ W J ^ € ^ / " : - fc ^ 


w ,^/ , 



Forms of accentual fulness or stress on the Concrete. 



I I I ! f I 



2 3 



In the above notation, there is no meaning in the curve of the 
vanish, except on the wavesj nor in the circular enlargement of 
the radical. In this, as formerly remarked, the eye only was 



100 THE RADICAL AND 

consulted; though I cannot say, the engraver has, in all cases, 
done justice to the drawing furnished.* 

I have here endeavored to describe, under its various forms, an 
important and delicate function of speech. There is a peculiarity 
in the human voice which has never been copied by instrumental 
contrivances. The sounds of the horn, flute, and musical-glass, 
may severally equal and even surpass in vocality a long-drawn, 
and level vocal note: still there is something wanting, that dis- 
tinguishes their intonation from that of speech. It is the want 
of the equable gliding, the lessening volume, and the soft ex- 
tinction of the yet inimitable radical and vanishing movement. 

And further; the simple utterance of the radical and vanish 
seems to be an instinctive and uncontrolable function of the voice: 
since to my observation, even the very shortest vocal impulse on a 
vowel or sylable, is not, so to speak, a mere point of sound with- 
out dimensions, but is necessarily made upward or downward 
through some, however rapid movement. This remark is true of 
the voices of many sub-animals. Does it apply to all? and even 
to common mechanical noises? 

In the course of this essay, I shall endeavor to obviate the 
effect of that repetition of its nomenclature, which the purpose of 
explanation and the newness of the subject might require^ by the 
use of various abbreviated but equivalent terms. Thus the Con- 
crete function will, according to the general or specific purpose in 
its use, be variously called the radical and vanishing movement ; 

* On first observing the peculiar character of the radical and vanish^ when 
my attention was sometimes misled by hasty conclusions, and while doubtfully 
experimenting on the form of melody^ I drew, partly after the pattern of a 
musical note, the symbol of the concrete as it still remains. And see, how that 
deceitful thing the mind with its resemblances, as we are prone to use them, 
should be watched. Upon the first draft of the ilustrations, the graceful lines 
of a Greek scroll seemed analogous to the delicate impression of the vocal van- 
ish; and the form then given to the symbol subsequently so influenced my per- 
ception, that perhaps I am not yet quite free from the thought that induced 
it. Although aware from the first, that the figurative representation of the 
radical and vanish should be by the outline of a spire, still the wedge-like sym- 
bol, especially if set obliquely on the staff, appeared too awkward a picture of 
this mastery no, this mistress-principle of the voice. 

I here offer an apology for my departure from correctness in the ilustration. 
If I have committed a fault I much regret it ; and thereupon write this note, to 
prevent a false impression on the mind of the Reader. 



VANISHING MOVEMENT. 101 

the concrete movement, progression, interval, or pitch ; or simply 
the radical and vanish, or the concrete ; or the radical and van- 
ishing concrete tone, semitone, third, fifth, and octave. The 
Discrete function will be called the discrete movement, progression, 
change, skip, or pitch ; or the radical movement, change, progres- 
sion, skip, or pitch ; or the discrete tone, semitone, third, fifth, and 
octave. Each of the above phrases may have the specification of 
rise or fall, upward or downward, ascent or descent, according 
to the required purpose, or to any desirable variation of terms. 
Should the direction of the concrete, or of the radical not be 
specified or implied, the term is used for either rise or fall. As a 
general designation of the extent of intervals and wavesj all 
greater than those of the semitone and second will be called 
wider, to form a better rythmus than wide, in qualifying those 
terms of intonation. 

Let the Reader then not be alarmed at the variety of these 
terms; for at present he need only regard them for future refer- 
ence, if he should hereafter find it necessary. When he requires 
them, he will perhaps perceve, they are phrases connected so 
necessarily with the subject, that he himself might have made 
them. Indeed, a future wide companionship in the knowledge 
of speech, may have a shorter and more convenient nomenclature 
of its own. 

Let him however not be discouraged, by his first difficulty in 
discriminating the intervals of speech. There was muGh to per- 
plex and to threaten with despair, in the course of observation by 
which these intervals were first measured and described. Yet 
even these now palpable phenomena were not perceved at a mo- 
ment, as perhaps they might be, under a simple and real education 
of the senses and of thought. For the mirror of the mind ob- 
scured and distorted in its imagery, by a habitual occupation 
with little else than Fiction-? and Argument, too often the pro- 
vocative of fiction^ is not prepared to reflect the realities of nature 
without dimness or delay. The first perceptions by the author of 
this essay were full of indistinctness and doubt; far greater perhaps, 
than the inteligent Reader may experience from the descriptions 
in this section. Yet after three years familiarity with the dif- 
ferent intervals of intonation, their various degrees were much 



102 ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 

more perceptible to him, than the discrimination of colors without 
direct comparison; and quite as distinguishable by their effect 
upon the ear in deliberate utterance, as the vocality, time, and 
force of sylabic sound. 



SECTION III. 

Of the Elementary Sounds of the English Language ; with their 
Relations to the Radieal and Vanishing Movement. 

The term Element is applied to the most simple form of the 
articulate voice; and is not otherwise used in this Essay. The 
element as a sound addressed to the ear, is to be distinguished 
from its visible symbol or letter ; though this is sometimes specified 
as an alphabetic element. 

The radical and vanishing concrete, under all its forms, is em- 
ployed on a limited number of these elementary sounds, said by 
some writers, whom I here follow, to amount in the English 
language, to thirty-five. It seems useless to raise a distracting 
question on the subject of the kind and number of the elements. 
As long as the human mind prefers contention, to practical agree- 
ment, there will perhaps be refinements and differences on this 
point. The thirty-five here assumed, afford all the distinctions 
required for the uses of this Work. And they have been found 
sufficient for practical purposes, by those who have no time nor 
fondness for dispute.* 

* English philologists have, according to their real or affected nicety of ear, 
differed on the subject of the number of the elements in our language. The 
differences refer to the character of the sounds, or to the time, or manner of 
pronouncing them. The broad sound of a in all, and of o in occupy have been 
enumerated as different. If there is a difference, it may consist in the abrupt 
utterance of oc, or the suddenness with which the sound breaks from the organs. 
A like distinction has been made between o in ooze, and u in bull; where the 
explosive accent seems to give the perceptible difference to the short vowel. 
Now this abruptness of voice is a generic function, or mode, applicable to all 
vowels, and therefore not a ground for specific distinction. It is however, of 
little practical consequence, whether cases like these are decided one way or 
the other. 



ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 108 

An alphabet should consist of a separate symbol for every 
elementary sound. Under this view, the deficiencies, redun- 
dancies, and confusion of the system of alphabetic characters 
in the English language, prevent the adoption of its common 
grammatical subdivisions here. 

The sounds of the alphabetic elements are the material, and 
their combination into significant words, the formal causes of 
all language. It appears to me however, that a classification, 
according to their uses in other phenomena of speech, besides 
that of its articulation, would be practically useful as well as 
definitively just. But as Intonation is an important mode of 
speech, the arrangement of the elements if practically regarded, 
should have some reference to it. In the present section there- 
fore, these elements will be described and classed, according to 
their use in intonation.* 

* I set aside, in this place at least, the sacred division into vowels, conso- 
nants, mutes and semivowels. The complete history of nature will consist of a 
full description of all the interchangeable relationships, not of notions after 
the metaphysical manner, but of perceptible things. We receved the classifi- 
cation of the elements from Greek and Roman grammarians: and their division, 
according to organic causes, into labial, lingual, dental, and nasal, is now 
strictly a part of the physiology of speech. But whatever cause, connected 
with the vocal habits of another nation, or the etymologies of another tongue, 
may have justified the division into vowels and consonants according to their 
definition, it does not exist with us. Without designing to overlook or destroy 
arrangements, truly representing the relationships of these sounds, it is only 
intended in this essay to add to their history a division, grounded on their 
important functions in intonation. The strictness of philosophy should not be 
so far forgotten, as to suffer the claim of this classification to be exclusive. 
Let it remain as only a constituent portion, of new and wider prospects, yet to 
be opened in the art. 

Passing by other assailahle points of our immemorial system, the contradis- 
tinction of its two leading divisions is a misrepresentation. Had he an ear 
who said, and beleved^ a consonant cannot be sounded without the help of 
a vowel?. 

Among the thousand mismanagements of literary instruction, there is at the 
outset in the horn-book, a pretence to represent elementary sounds, by sylables 
composed of two or more elements, as^ Be, Kay, Zed, double U, and Aitch. 
These words are used in infancy and through life, as simple elements in the 
process of synthetic speling. But no error or oversight of the school should 
ever make us forget the realities of nature. 

Any pronouncing dictionary shows, that consonants alone may form sylables; 
and if they have never been appropriated to words which might stand solitary 



104 ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 

As the number of elementary sounds in the English language 
excedes that of the literal symbols, and as some of these symbols, 
especially those of the vowels, are made to represent various 
sounds, without a rule for discrimination^ I shall endeavor to 
supply this want of precision, by using short words of known 
pronunciation, containing the elementary sounds with the letters 
that represent them, marked in italics; which the Reader may 
exemplify to himself. 

Let him begin to utter the word all; but the moment the 
sound of a is completed, let him pause ; and that initial sound 
gives one of the elementary sounds of a. In a like experiment 
with other initial vowels of selected examples, he will hear the 
precise sounds of the other vowel elements. Again, for the con- 
sonants. In the word bee, let him pause after the obscure ' gut- 
tural murmur ' of its first sound, and he will hear the element 
represented by the letter b. 

Or, otherwise: let him, in the instance of both vowel and con- 
sonant, prolong unusually the first element, before joining it to 
the next; and the single elementary vowel, and the single ele- 
mentary consonant will be respectively heard in that prolongation. 

The thirty-five Elements are now to be considered under their 
relationships to the radical and vanish. And as the properties of 
this function are, prolongation of sound, and variation of con- 
crete pitch, with initial force and final feebleness^ these elements 
should be regarded in their varied capacity for the display of 
these properties. 

With this view, our elements of articulation may be arranged 
under three general heads. 

The first division embraces sounds with the radical and vanish 
in its most perfect form. They are twelve in number ; and are 
heard in the usual sound of the separated italics, in the following 
words : 

A-\\ a-rt, a-n, a-\e, ou-r, i-sle, o-\d, ee-l, oo-ze, e-rr, e-nd, 
and z'-n. 

in a sentence, like the vowels a, i, o, a-h, and a-we, it is not because they cannot 
be so used; but because they have not that full and manageable kind of vocality, 
which exhibits the quantity, force, and intonation of an unconnected element, 
with sufficient emphasis and with agreeable effect. 



ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 105 

From their being the purest and most manageable means for 
intonation, I have called them Tonic sounds. 

They consist of different sorts of Vocality^ or of that kind of 
voice in which we usually speak, and here contradistinguished 
from whisper or aspiration. They are produced by the joint 
functions of the larynx, fauces, and parts of the internal and 
external mouth. 

The tonicsj pronouncing the o, as in o-tj are of a more tunable 
voice than the other elements. They are capable of indefinite 
prolongation ; admit of the concrete and tremulous rise and fall, 
through all the intervals of pitch; may be uttered more forcibly 
than the other elements, as well as with more abruptness; and 
while these last two characteristics are appropriate to the fulness 
and stress of the raclicalj the attenuative prolongation, on their 
pure and controlable vocality, is finely accommodated to the van- 
ishing movement. Universally, they havej for the purposes of an 
agreeable intonation^ a eutony, briefly so to call it, beyond the 
other elements. 

The second division includes a number of sounds, possessing 
variously among themselves, a character similar to that of the 
tonics ; but differing in degree. They amount to fourteen ; and 
are marked by the sound of the separated italics, in the following 
words: 

i?-ow, d-are, #-ive, fl-ile, 2-one, y-e, w-o, th-en, a-3-ure, 
si-ng, l-ove, m-Skj, w-ot, r-ose. 

From their inferiority to the tonics, for all the emphatic and 
elegant purposes of speech, though they admit of being intonated 
or carried concretely through the intervals of the scale, I have 
called them Sulfonic sounds. 

They all have a vocality; in some it is combined with aspiration. 
B, d, g, ng, I, m, n, r, have an unmixed vocality ; v, z, y, w, 
th, z7i, have an aspiration joined with theirs. We have learned 
that the" vocality of the tonics is in each, peculiar. The vocality 
of some of the subtonics is apparently the same ; and among all, 
it does not greatly differ; resembling that of certain five of the 
tonics, to be described presently. Like the vocality of the tonics, 
it is formed in the larynx; but the sound in its outward course 
may have a modifying reverberation in the fauces, the mouth, and 
8 



106 ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 

the cavities of the nose. A few subtonic vocalities are purely 
nasal, asj m, n, ng, b, d, g. Others are purely oral. The nasal 
are soon silenced by closing the nostrils ; the rest are not materi- 
ally affected by it. The vocality of b, d, and g, may not be im- 
mediately perceved by those who have not, on the separate ele- 
ments, attained the full command of pronunciation. Writers 
have spoken of the vocality of these elements, under the name of 
'guttural murmur,' and have regarded it as a peculiar sound. It 
is the vocality, heard in v, th-en, z, zh, and r, modified into the 
respective articulation of b, d and g. The vocality of b, d and g, 
in ordinary speech has less duration and intensity, and is conse- 
quently less perceptible than that of v, th-en, z, zh, and r, but is 
the same in kind. It is the vocality alone of b, that distinguishes 
it fromj9. 

I have enumerated y and w, as the initial sounds of ye and wo; 
since y is a vocality like that of the other subtonics, mixed with 
an aspiration over the tongue, when near the roof of the mouthj 
and io a similar vocality, mixed with a breathing through an 
aperture in the protruded lips. As b, d, g and zh are made by 
joining vocalities instead of aspirations, with the organic positions 
of p, t, 7c, and sh; so y and w are severally the mixture of 
vocality with the pure aspiration of h, as heard in he, and of wh, 
in wh-irYd. The substitution of vocality for aspiration changes 
these words respectively to ye and world. 

This vocality of the subtonics, either pure or mixed, nasal or 
oral, is variously modified by the nose, tongue, teeth and lips. 
An entire or partial obstruction of the current of breath through 
the mouth, and a subsequent removal of the obstruction, pro- 
duces the peculiar sound of the subtonics: for, on pronouncing 
b, d, and g, and it is the same with all, the voice breaks from its 
obstruction with a short and feeble terminative impulse. It is in 
the momentary terminative portion of subtonic sound, heard on 
removing this obstruction, that the character of the vocality, in 
some of these elements, may be most readily perceved. This 
voeula or little voice, if it may be so called, has been noticed by 
writers, as necessary to complete the utterance of the class of 
Mutes ; but it may be heard more or less conspicuously at the 
termination of all the subtonics. It is least perceptible in those 



ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 107 

having the most aspiration. In ordinary utterance it is short 
and feeble ; and is most obvious in forcible or in affected pronun- 
ciation. When the subtonics precede the tonics, they lose this 
short and feeble termination, and take in its place the full sound 
of the succeeding tonicj thus producing an abrupt opening of the 
tonic. 

I have called this last-vented sound of the subtonics, the 
VocuUj, pronouncing o, as in o-yj and have been thus particular 
in noticing and naming it, as both the function and the term will 
be refered to, in treating on Sylabication, and on Expression. 

The five tonic sounds, to which the vocalities of the subtonics 
bear a resemblance, are ee-\, e-nd, z'-n, e-rr, and oo-ze. Y-e and 
tv-o have respectively something like a nasal echo of ee-\, and 
oo-ze. B, d, g, v, th-en, z, zli and r resemble e-rr; I, m, and 
n have something of the sound of e-nd ; and ng, of z'-n. 

The subtonics are subordinate to the tonics in their character 
and uses. The kind of sound is less agreeable. Compared with 
the clear vocal-fulness of the tonics, it is obscured in the purest ; 
and in others, is destroyed by aspiration. They are severally 
capable of more or less prolongation, and may be carried through 
the concrete and tremulous variation of pitch. None admit of 
much force in their vocality ; nor can initial fulness be given to 
them without extraordinary effort. These last named insufficien- 
cies prevent the subtonics from forming, like the tonics, a proper 
radical abruptness on the concrete. When therefore a subtonic 
precedes a tonic, as in the sylable vain, the vocality of v, com- 
pared with the vocality of a, is so feeble, that with only a common 
effort of utterance, there is an absence of the strong and sudden 
opening of the radical. The subtonic does indeed make a short 
initial to the sylable, and then breaks from its vocule into the 
succeding tonic. When prolonged, its tendency is to continue 
on one line of pitch until the tonic a opens from the vocality of v, 
with the true character of the radical. It must not from this, be 
concluded^ the subtonics can in nowise form the opening of a 
sylable; for all of them when separately uttered, may be carried 
concretely through every interval ; and even preceding a tonic, a 
strenuous effort may somewhat increase their volume, but cannot 
give them the abruptness of a proper radical. In ordinary pro- 



108 ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 

nunciation, they are scarcely appreciated as a part of the initial 
concrete. 

This want of force and abruptness in a subtonic, does not pre- 
vent it from fulfiling the purpose of the vanish, when it succedes a 
tonic. Thus in the sylable van* after the short and feeble sound 
of vj the a, as we have said, begins the radical, and after rising 
through a portion of the interval, glides into the subtonic w, which 
carries on and completes the vanish. This coalescence seems to 
be the result of the tonics having no final occlusion, and conse- 
quently no vocule. 

The remaining nine elements, forming the third division, are 
Aspirations, and have not that kind of sound called vocality. 
They are produced by a current of whispering breath through 
certain internal and external parts of the mouth. They are 
heard in the sound of the separated italic, in the wordsj 

TJ-p, ou-t, ar-&, i-f, ye-s, h-e, wh-e&t, th-irt, pu-sA. 

From their limited power of variation in pitch, even when 
uttered singly with the designed effort to produce it, and from 
their supplying no part of the concrete when breathed among 
the tonic and subtonic constituents of sylables, I have called 
them Atonic sounds. 

On comparing their articulative production with that of some 
of the subtonics, we find them, respectively, almost identical in 
all their conditions except that of vocality, which is wanting in 
the atonies. % 

B. D. G. V. Z. Y. W. Th. Zh. % L. M. N. K. 

I I I I I I I II 
P. T. K. F. S. H.Wh. Th. Sh. 

Though this whispering imitation is not made on all the sub- 
tonicsj the five exceptions do not altogether destroy the inference 
that nature has her 'formative effort' towards a general rule of 
duplicature in these creations. The m, n, and ng are purely 
nasal; and when their vocality is dropped, the attempt to utter 
them by the mere breathing of the atonies, produces in each case 
similar snuffling aspirations. Yet even this snuffling, though no 
reputed element of speech, is used before the vocality of n, m, or 



ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 109 

ng, as the inarticulate sign of sneer. The two remaining sub- 
tonics, I and r, are in perfect English speech, unmatched by 
atonies. But an aspirated copy of Z, produced by a kind of hiss- 
ing over the moisture of the tongue, is occasionally heard: and a 
true atonic parallel to r, in what is called the 'Northumbrian 
burr,' is in Britain, not an uncommon defect of utterance.* 

The Atonies, from the unfitness for intonation that furnished 
the etymology of their name, afford no vocal means for the radical 
and vanish. Most of them have a perceptible vocule, consisting 
of a short aspiration like the whispering of e-rr. They have no 
tunable sound; with only a power of prolongation, on a poor 
material: and though inferior in most of the purposes of speech, 
to the other elements^ it will be shown in treating of Expression, 
that the Aspiration is both significative, and emphatic. 

The enumeration under the preceding divisions includes all the 
elementary sounds of the English language, that apart from ques- 
tionable and unimportant refinements, have been noticed by ob- 
servant authors. 

Three of the subtonics, 5, d, and g, and three of the atonies, 
Jc, p, and t, when uttered before a tonic have eminently an explo- 
sive character; the subtonic bursting from its occlusion into the 
tonic. They have peculiar purposes in speech, and being distin- 
guished as a subdivision, may be called Abrupt elements. At the 
beginning of a sylable they produce a sudden opening of the suc- 
ceeding tonic; and at the end, they exhibit a final vocule. The 
effect of these abrupt elements in the art of speaking, will be 
shown in treating of Expression. 

The foregoing arrangement of the elementary sounds was 
devised, to give a general view of their respective relationships to 
intonation. For a further development of this subject, I now 
describe particularly, the structure and functions of the Tonics. 

In ilustrating the character of the radical and vanishing move- 
ment, it was shown that the tonic a-le, uttered in the manner 
then directed, rises with its two kinds of sound, through the in- 
terval of a tone or wider interval; the radical beginning on a, 

* Bishop Wilkins, in his 'Essay towards a real character,' has enumerated 
the aspirated I and r, among the provincial vices of speech, and has allotted 
literal symbols to them. 



110 ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 

and the vanish diminishing to a close on e. Now as all the tonic 
sounds necessarily pass through the radical and vanish, they 
demand an analysis relatively to it. 
These seven of the tonic elementsj 

a-we, a-rt, a-n, a-le, z'-sle, o-ld, ou-y, 

have respectively, different sounds at their two extremes. 
The remaining fivej 

ee-l, oo- ze, e-rr, g-nd, z-n, 

have each, one unaltered sound throughout their concrete. 

The tonics may therefore be properly divided into Dipthongs 
and Monothongs. 

The dipthong a-we has for its radical the nominal sound of 
a, in a-we; its vanish is a short and obscure sound of the mono- 
thong e-Y\\ 

A-Yt has for its radical the nominal sound of a, in a-rt; its 
vanish, like that of the preceding, being the short and obscure 
sound of e-YY. 

The radical of a-n is the nominal sound of a, in a-n. Its vanish 
is the same in degree and kind as. the last. 

The sound of each of these elements has heretofore been con- 
sidered homogeneous throughout; for their vanish being feeble in 
ordinary utterance, it has escaped perception. But in earnest 
and prolonged interrogation, these dipthongs will severally ter- 
minate at a high pitch, in a faint sound of e-YY. 

A-le, as shown formerly, has its radical, with the distinct sound 
of the monothong ee-l for its vanishing movement. 

J-sle has its radical, followed in like manner by a vanish of 
the monothong ee-\. The dipthongal character of z, has long been 
known, and the discovery of it is attributed to Wallis the gram- 
marian. It is described by Sheridan and others, as consisting 
of a-we and ee-l; the coalescence of the two producing the 
peculiar sound of i. In this account, it is admitted that the 
element is peculiar; there is therefore no need of reference to 
a-we, in the theory of its causation. A skilful ear will readily 
perceve^ the radical of z'-sle is a peculiar tonic, and ascribe it to a 
peculiar mechanism of its own. 



ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. Ill 

O-ld has its radical in the sound of 0, formerly supposed to be 
homogeneous. Its vanish is the distinctly audible sound of the 
monothong 00-ze. 

Ou-r has a radical, followed in like manner by a vanish of the 
monothong 00-ze. That the first sound of this dipthongal tonic 
is not a-we, but a radical of its own, may easily be proved to a 
discriminating ear; for it will be learned by experiment, that 
«-we does not unite with 00-ze, by the easy gliding transition 
heard in the junction of the true radical of ou-r with the same 
00-ze. 

I have been at a loss what to say of the sound signified by oi 
and oy, as in voice and boy. It may be looked upon as a dip- 
thongal tonic, consisting of the radical a-we, and of the vanish- 
ing monothong i-n when the quantity of the element is short, and 
of ee-\ when long. But from the habit of the voice, it is difficult 
to give a-we without adding its usual vanish e-rr; and this makes 
the compound a tripthong. If taken as a dipthongal tonic, this 
is the only instance in which the same radical has two different 
vanishes. And though this should not be conclusive against its 
classification, it might make a subject for inquiry. In case this 
sound should be considered as a true dipthongal tonic, and anal- 
ogies seem in favor of it, the number of tonics would be thirteen, 
and the whole of the elements thirty-six. But this point is scarcely 
worth the time of doubting, much less of dispute. 

The seven radical sounds with their vanishes thus described, 
include, as far as I observe, all the elementary dipthongs of the 
English language. In the common scholastic definition, the 
terms dipthong and tripthong mean a combination of two or of 
three visible letters, not a fluent union oi phonetic elements. Ac- 
cording to the foregoing history, and under our view, the term 
dipthong denotes the transition of the voice from one tonic sound 
to another; forming thus the impulse of one sylable, by a con- 
tinued gliding, without a perceptible change of organic effort, in 
the transition. By the term elementary, applied to a dipthong, 
I mean to point out the inseparable bond of its constituents; the 
ordination or the habit, whichever it may be, of the voice, having 
so decreed the series of the two sounds, that the first or radical 
cannot be uttered without terminating in the second or vanish. 



112 ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 

The remaining five tonics are monothongs, and have one kind 
of sound for both the radical and vanishing movements. They 
arej 

oo-ze, ee-\, e-rr, e-nd, z-n. 

The element ee-\ deliberately uttered as a question with earnest 
surprise, has the same unvaried sound from the radical outset, to 
the end of its vanish. One of the forms of interrogation will be 
shown hereafter to be the interval of a radical and vanishing 
octave; and the same homogeneous course of ee-\ may be heard 
through the fifth, third, tone, and semitone. This manner of dis- 
playing the course of the unchanged concrete in ee-1, will show 
the like uniformity of sound in each of the other monothongs, 
with the exception of i-n. This element has its distinct and 
proper sound, only in short sylables; and by prolongation, is 
changed into ee-\. We leave others to consider it, if they please, 
as a short and abrupt utterance of ee-\. 

The difference between these two classes of tonics, as here 
described, may be otherwise shown. We learned in the last sec- 
tion, the distinction between the equable concrete of speech, and 
the protracted radical and protracted vanish of song. When the 
dipthongs are sung with a protracted vanish, the voice quickly 
leaves the radical, and dwells in a continued note on the different 
sound of the vanish. The protracted note, in the vanish of a 
monothong, is the same in sound as the radical. 

Another ilustration of the real dipthongal character of seven 
of the tonics, may be drawn from the phenomena of rhyme. 
Rhyme is a well known relationship in the sound of sylablesj 
consisting, in most cases, of a difference between the first ele- 
mental sound of each of the compared sylables, with an identity 
between all the subsequent elemental sounds, each to each; the 
agreeable effect of rhyme depending chiefly on the particular 
relations of the tonic sounds. The first is the relation of tonics 
thoroughly identical, asj dame, came. The second, of tonics with 
a different radical, but the same vanishing movement, asj cars, 
wars. The third, of tonics differing both in their radicals and 
vanishes, yet of nearest resemblance in their kind of vocality, asj 
good, blood. 



ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 113 

The use of the second kind of rhyme shows the composition of 
the dipthongal tonics. In the following lines, the correspondence 
of oo-ze, in doom, with o-ld, in home; and of a-le, in obey, with 
ee-\ in tea, is admitted as canonical, from an identity of the van- 
ishes of a-le and old, respectively with the monothongs ee-\ and 
oo-ze. 

Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom 
Of foreign tyrants, and of nymphs at home ; 
Here thou, great Anna ! whom three realms obey, 
Dost sometimes counsel takej and sometimes tea. 

The assimilation of the sounds of a-le and ee-\, by the identity 
of their vanishes, in the four following rhymes^ together with an 
inflexible prosaic rythmus, in the last couplet, produces the monot- 
ony and the want of elegance throughout the example. 

Swift to the Lock a thousand sprites repair, 
A thousand wings, by turns, blow back the hair; 
And thrice they twitch'd the diamond in her ear; 
Thrice she looked back, and thrice the foe drew near. 

Besides the differences arising from singleness of sound, and 
from dipthongal combination, the tonics exhibit a variety in time 
both when uttered separately, and in sylabic connection. Two 
general divisions may be made. 

A-we, a-rt, a-n, a-le, ee-\, i-sle, ou-y, oo-ze, 

may be called long, andj 

e-YY, e-nd, z-n, 

short tonics. It is not to be supposed^ the latter may not by 
designed effort be made as long as the former: they have their 
places in this arrangement, from their usual time in English syl- 
ables. By prolongation, i-n changes nearly if not entirely into 
ee-\: and as it thus seems to owe its character in short pronun- 
ciation, to its abruptness, it might be merged in ee-l, and rejected 
as a distinct element. When the long tonics are combined with 
other elements into sylables, their time is of every distinguishable 
degree, from a momentary impulse to the longest passionate utter- 
ance of an interjection, asj from o-tt to a- we, from ou-t to h-ow, 
from a-t to a-h ! from a-te to h-ay, rj-ea-t to ee-\, f-oo-t to oo-ze, 
c-a-Yt to a-rms, k-i-te to z'-sle. 



114 ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 

The time of the short tonics in combination, has much less 
variety. But however rapidly any of the tonics may be pro- 
nounced, they do even in their least duration, still pass through 
the concrete movement. 

All the elements except the abrupt atonies 7c, p, t, have a 
variety in duration. The vocality of the subtonics affords, the 
means of their time, and its prolongation is next in importance to 
that of the tonics, for the purposes of correct and elegant speech. 

Should it be asked^ why the dipthongs are here designated as 
elementary, when each may be resolved into greater simplicity, it 
may be answered^ the dipthongs, though compounded of different 
successive sounds, yet these are inseparable in utterance: and 
regarding an element as a single impulse of the voice, the dip- 
thong must be classed with it. I cannot pronounce the radical 
of a dipthong without in some manner, giving also its vanish. 
The radical may indeed be indefinitely sustained on its level line 
of pitch, and we may attempt to cut it off by a sudden occlusion 
of the voice; still it can be terminated only by a glide through 
the vanish, which, however quick, or feeble, or varied by aspira- 
tion or otherwise, from its proper sound, may still be heard. In 
the equable concrete of speech, the rapid pronunciation of a dip- 
thong, and the feebleness of its vanish, may lessen the audi- 
bility of this second soundj yet to an attentive ear it will not be 
altogether lost. And further, not only does the radical of a 
dipthong demand its own peculiar vanish, but it cannot be car- 
ried through a given interval without sliding into that vanish. 
For in exercising a concrete octave on the dipthong a-we or a-\ej 
though its radical may by effort be continued up to the seventh 
of the scalej the final close on the eighth will unavoidably turn 
respectively to e-rr or ee-\. A similar change takes place on 
all smaller intervals, in an endeavor to make monothongs of the 
dipthongal radicals. 

If an elementary character should be denied to the dipthongs, 
by regarding them as separable sounds, it would not increase the 
number of simple tonics beyond twelve ; for the Reader may have 
already remarked^ the vanishing portions of the dipthongs consist 
exclusively of the monothongs. 

It follows, from what has been said on the indivisible sound of 



ALPHABETIC ELEMENTS. 115 

the dipthongs, that radicals cannot be united with any other 
vanishes, than those already ordained in the practice of the voice : 
and notwithstanding what has been observed, transcribed, and 
assumed by writers on the subject of the dipthongal union of the 
vowels, the instances here enumerated appear to be all belonging 
to English speech. Other combinations want the smooth transi- 
tion and singleness of sylabic impulse, characterizing a dipthong, 
and heard perfectly united, only in the double sound of the above 
named seven elementary tonics. 

As the dipthongal tonics are respectively produced by joining 
a monothong to a radical of different sound, and as all the pos- 
sible permutations of their union are not employed, we may in- 
quirej if it is within the power of the voice to make a greater 
number of dipthongs than here enumerated, by uniting, severally, 
every monothong with each radical tonic. As there are seven 
radicals and five monothongs, we might upon this scheme, have 
thirty-five dipthongs. It appears however, we have only eight, 
supposing oi to be included : the radical of a-we, as stated above, 
being by this supposition, severally combinable with two mono- 
thongs, and each of the rest with one. Other combinations may 
be made ; but they have not a fluent transition, like those which 
already belong to the language and have their literal symbols. 
Would these new combinations call for a management of voice not 
altogether instinctive, and therefore requiring a practice and skill, 
not yet reached in English speech? Have any of these supposed 
dipthongs been admitted among the alphabetic elements of other 
nations? And are these unused materials of the voice to be 
classed with those resources destined to afford their benefits upon 
some new intelectual revolution, and the widening demands of 
human regeneration^ when the mind, turned from its perversions, 
and restored to nature's intended rules of intelect, shall, with an 
exalted choice, prefer sobriety of thought to its intoxication, and 
cease to love fiction better than truth? In regarding the con- 
struction of the dipthongs, we may under another view, consider 
them as proper sylables compounded of a tonic and subtonic ; 
since the monothongs as vanishes to the radical tonics, have in 
some degree the character of subtonics; and then they lose the 
radical fulness they have when uttered alone. The vanish of a-le 



116 ON SYLABICATION. 

is very nearly allied to y-e, if not identical with it; and the vanish 
of ou-y bears as near a relation to iv-o. It will be evident too on 
trial, that if a radical character is given to these vanishes, they 
do not unite with the previous radical into one dipthongal im- 
pulse of the voice. And may we under this view, askj if the 
other monothongs, when modified by suhtonic coalescence, might 
be severally joined with our present radicals, and even with one 
another, and thus be formed into new dipthoDgal sylables? 

In a former part of this section it was saidj the true elemental 
subtonics are independent sounds; utterable without the 'help of 
a vowel' or tonic; contrary to the common grammatical definition 
of a consonant; their own obscure vocalities bearing respectively, 
a resemblance to those of the five monothongs. Hence some 
sylables may be formed exclusively by subtonics. In the words 
bidde-n, i-dle, schis-m, ryth-m, rive-n, scru-ple, and words of like 
construction, the last sylable is either purely subtonic, or a com- 
bination of subtonic and atonic. And though these final sylables 
do go through the radical and vanishing movement, they are far 
inferior in quality, abruptness, eutony and force, to the full dis- 
play of these properties on the tonics. The reason why words of 
this construction are necessarily divided into two sylables, will 
appear in the following section. 



—»*©©©««.— 



SECTION IV. 

Of the influence of the Radical and Vanishing Movement, in the 
production of the various phenomena of Sylables. 

The foregoing history of elementary sounds and of the radical 
and vanishing movement, will enable us to explain some of the 
phenomena of Sylabication. 

What are the particular functions of the voice that produce the 
characteristics of sylables? 

What determines their length? 



ON SYLABICATION. 117 

Why are sylables limited in length, otherwise than by the term 
of expiration: and what produces their ordinary length, when 
there is no obstruction to the further continuation of the sound of 
tonic and subtonic elements? 

And finally^ what prescribes the rule that allows but one accent 
to a sylable ? 

I shall endeavor to answer these questions by the principles 
of vocal analysis, showings 

That an elemental sound, or the order of elemental sounds called 
a sylable, is a necessary effect, or accompaniment of the radical 
and vanishing movement; and every sylable consisting of one or 
more of these sounds, derives its singleness of impulse, and its 
respective length, from certain relations between this concrete 
movement and the various tonic, subtonic, and atonic elements. 
As the Reader cannot have from me, vocal exemplification of this 
subject; a decision upon the argument contained in the following 
conditions and inferences is left to his own experimental inquiry. 

If the radical and vanishing movement of the voice through a 
tone or other interval, is an essential function of a sylable, it fol- 
lows that each of the tonics may by itself, form a sylable : since 
they cannot be pronounced singly, without going through the 
radical and vanish. Now the tonics are employed for monosylabic 
words, as in eye, a, awe; for interjective particles, as in oh, ah; 
and for mono-literal sylables, as in a-corn, ow-rang, o-ver, e-vade. 

It follows also from the assumed causation of a sylable, that 
two of the tonics cannot be united into one vocal impulse. For 
each having its own radical and vanish, they must produce two 
separate sylables. Consistently with this, whenever two ele- 
mentary tonics adjoin, they always belong to different sylables in 
pronunciation, as in a-e-rial, o-a-sis, and i-o-ta,. 

If the radical and vanish alone of the voice makes a sylable 
what it isj it follows that the atonies being incapable of that 
function, cannot make a new and distinct sylabic impulse when 
joined with the tonics. The word speaks exhibits the meaning of 
this inference. For the sylabic concrete is here made on a short 
sound of the tonic ee-l ; while, s, p, Jc and s, add to the time, but 
do not destroy the monosylabic character of that word. It is 
true, the s on each extreme is a distinct sound, but having no 



118 ON SYLABICATION. 

radical and vanish, it has no more the character of a sylable than 
the hissing of a water-jet; and therefore does not interfere with 
the singleness of impulse. The voice in this word is not indeed 
so gliding as on a single tonic, which shows a sylable in its purest 
form ; yet this obstruction is very different from that of the three- 
fold division, in the word Ohio. For when this is pronounced 
with a radical and vanish on each of its tonics, they cannot be 
contracted into one undivided sound. In answer then to the first 
question^ It is the concrete, modified by the several elements, that 
produces the characteristics of those impulses called sylables. 

Sylables are of different lengths. Is this an arbitrary variation, 
or is it the unavoidable effect of the concrete function, and of the 
elementary sounds ? 

This question is not asked in reference to prosodial quanti- 
ties; nor to those emphatic prolongations of voice, that give 
force or solemnity to oratorical expression. It regards especially 
the difference of length in sylables, created by their elementary 
constituents; for it will be shown that the limit of a sylable is de- 
termined by the character and arrangement of these, within the 
concrete. 

To render this subject perspicuous, let us take a synthetic 
view of the literal series in words. 

Several of the tonics, as shown above, individually and alone 
form words and sylables. These exhibit the sylabic impulse of 
the radical and vanish in its Simple condition ; and their length 
may equal that of the time of expiration; thus forming a few ex- 
ceptions to the limitation of extent, in all other sylables. But 
elements cannot be combined with a view to lengthen a sylable, 
by the addition of one tonic to another; for this would produce a 
new and separate impulse. 

A combination of elements, with relation to the length of syla- 
bles, is made under the following circumstances of their character, 
and position. When to the element a-le the atonic / is prefixed, 
the sylable fa is formed with the concrete rise on a preceded by 
the atonic aspiration. If to these the atonic s should be subjoined, 
the word /as (face) will be longer than the combined elements/ 
and a; still the triple compound will be one sylable, since it can 
have only one concrete rise. For though these two atonies may 



OX STLABICATION. 119 

be clearly heard as part of the length of the sylable, yet being 
incapable of the concrete function, the radical and vanish through 
the given interval is made altogether on a, as if the word con- 
sisted of that element alone. The addition of atonies to tonics 
both prefixed and subjoined is then the first manner of increasing 
the length of a sylable, without destroying its singleness of im- 
pulse. 

Further, when to the tonic a, the subtonic I is prefixed, the 
sylable la is longer than a, yet has only one radical and vanish. 
It was said formerly, that with a subtonic before a tonic, the 
vanish of the subtonic does not occur; for when the subtonic is 
prolonged, it continues on one level line of pitch, till its vocule 
opens into the tonic, which then begins the intended interval with 
its radical, and completes it with its vanish; but in common utter- 
ance, the vocule of the subtonic breaks at once into the radical 
of the tonic, which in this case begins as well as completes the 
interval. In the sylable la, I does then begin the impulse with 
its vocality, and immediately, without perceptible rise or prolon- 
gation, joins the vocality of a; a then opening, from the vocule 
of I, with a full emphatic radical, rises and vanishes on the e of 
its upper extreme. If to la the subtonic v should be subjoined, 
the compound lav (lave) will be longer than la; yet its sylabic 
character will be preserved, by the singleness of its radical and 
vanish. In the pronunciation of lav, the intonation of I and a 
will be as before, except that a, with its joint e, still perfect as a 
dipthong, will. not now rise so high through the concrete; for a 
subtonic being capable of the gliding concrete, v will in this case 
unite with the e of the dipthong before it reaches the upper limit 
of the interval, and thus complete the vanish of the sylable. The 
junction of subtonic elements with tonics, both in pre and post 
position is therefore a second manner of adding to the length of 
a sylable, without destroying the unity of the radical and vanish- 
ing concrete. 

Moreover, if the abrupt element t be prefixed to a, the sylable 
ta will be but a single impulse. If g be subjoined, the word tag 
will still have only one radical and vanish. In this way, two ab- 
rupt atonies joined with the short tonics, as in cut, pet, tik, produce 
the shortest sylables in the language; yet here the concrete 



120 ON SYLABICATIOX. 

movement, however short, is still performedj the radical of the 
tonic, opening from the first abrupt element, and the vanish being 
suddenly cut-off, by closing on the last. This prefixing and sub- 
joining of abrupt elements with tonics is a third manner of pre- 
serving the singleness of impulse in a sylable, under the variation 
of its length. 

The three different sorts of combination described above, pro- 
duce their various lengths, in the manner represented by the 
examples under each head. But none of them can be much ex- 
tended beyond the given instances, while they are restricted to 
the kind of elements employed in their respective cases. 

A fourth manner of combining elements is by a union of all 
the different kinds, in one sylable. To ilustrate this, we have 
only to consider, that whenever a subtonic is followed by a pause, 
consequently whenever it is uttered singly, or at the end of a 
sylablej it unavoidably assumes the concrete movement; and that 
the same takes place when a subtonic is followed by an atonic, as 
in this case there is a termination of vocality; which in effect, is 
equivalent to a pause. In each of the words strange, (properly 
strandzh) and strength, and the supposed sylable sglivzd, there 
is but one radical and vanishing movement; and the singleness 
of impulse is owing to the peculiar arrangement of the different 
kinds of elements. Each consists of seven sounds, and this is 
perhaps the greatest number the varied character of the elements 
allows to a sylable, even with the best contrived combination. 
The radical and vanish of these several sylables is made on ange, 
eng and ivzd, and the principle of vocal management of the other 
elements is the same in each; for r and I being subtonics re- 
spectively before the tonics a-le, e-nd, and z-le, do not take-on the 
concrete. T being an abrupt atonic, adds nothing to the vocality 
of r, and the preceding atonic s, having no concrete function, the 
three elements s, t, and r, in strange, and strength, and the s, g 
and I in the supposed sylable, slightly lengthen the beginning 
of these several words, without destroying the unity of their im- 
pulses; while the n, d, and zh, the ng, the v, z, and d, which 
respectively follow the tonics, a, e, and i, take up the concrete 
movement from these tonics, and severally complete the vanish of 
the single sylabic impulse. The final atonic ih, in strength, only 



ON SYLABICATION. 



121 



adds to the time of that word, without bearing part in the con- 
crete. The constituents in each of the above words may be com- 
bined into one sylable, in other series : but in all cases, the atonies 
must be on the extremes. If otherwise, as in the arrangement 
rstange, the whole cannot be pronounced as one sylable. For 
the vocality of r, ceasing on account of the subsequent atonic s, 
this r must take on the concrete movement, and thus become a 
sylable. The Reader may remember, it was saidj the subtonics 
are capable of the radical and vanish when uttered separately ; 
and the termination of their sound by an atonic, produces this 
condition. In the above combinations, and in such sylables as 
marl, lorn, and hold, the subtonics unite smoothly not only with 
the radical, and with the vanish of a tonic, but they themselves 
unite, in their concrete movement, smoothly with each other. Nor 
is it obvious, why the occlusion of the subtonics should not in this 
last case, interfere with the gliding of the sylabic concrete. 

I have thus endeavored to show, that the various lengths of 
sylables depend on the kind and arrangement of their constituent 
elements, in the execution of the radical and vanish. 

The following notation may ilustrate the preceding account of 
the structure of sylables. This scheme represents the movement 






Q — 



^ % M 



£-jLA..J±J3^£l^fJL.<fA.£l 



A-e 



F-A-e F-A-e-s L-A-e L-A-e-v T-A-e T-A-e-k 



A combination of each of the 
species of elements. 



St — r-andzh 



St — r-eng — th 



The double sylabic 
impulse by change. 



-#-•••©- 



R-r st — andzh 



of a third ; but it is the same in all intervals. The dotted line 
denotes the atonic aspiration. The thick black line united to the 
radical denotes a prolonged note of the subtonic, when it precedes 
9 



122 ON SYLABICATION. 

a tonic, and opens into its radical. It is marked as a line, to 
represent its vocality, and to distinguish it from the dotted points 
of the atonies or aspirations. In ordinary utterance without 
emphatic extension, this line is of but momentary length. The 
full black radical, with its issuing appendage, signifies the tonic 
alone, or the tonic in combination with a vanishing subtonic. 

In this notation, the atonic sounds are represented by the 
dotted lines, in certain places of pitch. As aspirations however, 
their place is in no appreciable relation to the pitch of the tonics 
and subtonics; and I beg the Reader may so regard the notation, 
where the atonic symbols are used to show the presence of the 
aspirated voice. 

If the principle of sylabication does not depend on a restric- 
tion by the concrete, and on the kind and position of the elements, 
here assignedj a single sylable might contain an indefinite number 
of tonic sounds, combined with such other elements as have no 
marked occlusion; and consequently, the length of the sylable 
would be limited only by the time of expiration; the possibility 
of which case will be considered presently. But from the influ- 
ence of the radical and vanish, in the common aggregates of ele- 
mentary sounds, the duration of a sylable is quickly arrested. 
There are twelve tonics; fourteen subtonics; nine atonies; and 
six abrupt elements. Twelve of these, the nine atonies and the 
three abrupt subtonics, being productive of an interruption to the 
continuity of the sylabic impulse^ the promiscuous mingling of 
all the elements must give one of these an average position in 
every third or fourth place among the tonics and subtonics, and 
thereby set a limit to the duration of sylabic sound. Sometimes 
this interruption produces sylables of two elements, only; and it 
has never perhaps in the English language, allowed any sylable 
in use, to have more than seven. 

The cause why the words strange and strength cannot be made 
longer, without more than ordinary effort, is this. Tonic elements 
cannot be added, as no two of them can be united into one vocal 
impulse. Nor will these words bear a subtonic at the beginning; 
for s being an atonic, and producing a pause, any subtonic uttered 
before it must therefore go through its radical and vanish and 
form a separate sylable. An atonic prefixed to these words 



ON SYLABICATION. 123 

would not indeed make a new concrete, but would produce a 
varying effort of hissing and aspiration, bearing no resemblance 
to the easy gliding of tonic and subtonic sylabication. 

In answer then to the question^ why sylables are not continued 
to the utmost length of an act of expiration, it has been shown, 
that as speech employs all the elements, the abrupt and atonic 
must necessarily divide the time of one expiration into different 
sylabic impulses. 

From the four kinds of elementary sounds employed in the 
construction of sylables, let us now suppose the atonic and 
abrupt to be rejected, and consequently the last mentioned cause 
of limitation to be removed. Why is it impossible in this case, 
to give indefinite length to a sylable formed by the union of a 
tonic with any number of subtonics ? Or, why is such a sylable 
otherwise limited than by the term of expiration ? 

When a tonic precedes a subtonic in the formation of a con- 
crete interval, it gives up a portion of its concrete movement to 
the subtonic, which then carries on and completes the vanish. In 
this way, the radical and vanish may consist of a tonic and one, 
two, three, or at most, four subtonics. But the number cannot in 
easy pronunciation, be extended beyond these. Thus in the syla- 
ble strandzh (strange) the concrete rise begins on a, and continu- 
ing through n, cl and zh, vanishes on the last. With two more 
subtonics v and m, subjoined to this word, as in strandzhvm, few 
speakers could make one pure sylabic impulse of the combination. 
The cause of this difficulty, or as we may call it, impossibility, 
will appear in the following remarks. 

In an ordinary use of the voice, the concrete rises or falls 
through the intervals of a tone, or third, or fifth; and employs 
therein a certain portion of time. Although the concrete and the 
time of these intervals may indeed be executed on one tonic, com- 
bined with several subtonics; yet there is a limit to the number, 
utterable by an easy effort in correct speech. For each constituent 
requiring a certain duration, to render it conizable as a variation 
of pitchj and to insure distinct pronunciation, each should con- 
sume a portion of the time of the concrete ; and it is foundj each 
constituent does consume so much, that not more than four sub- 
tonics together with the preceding tonic, can in easy utterance be 



124 ON SYLABICATION. 

compressed into the time and space of the radical and vanish, or 
of the wave. 

In pronouncing a combination of tonics and subtonics, greater 
than can be included in a single concrete, or a wave^ either two 
sylables must be formed by two separate concretes, or some one 
of the tonic or subtonic constituents must be protracted on one 
line of pitch. And though this last would not necessarily produce 
two sylables, yet by assuming the characteristic note of song, it 
would be very different from the effect of the truly equable syla- 
bic-concrete of speech, and therefore not to be regarded in the 
question before us. But admitting, a sylable might be prolonged, 
to the extent of expiration, through what we called in the second 
section, a continued wave; still the prolongation being here made 
on a single tonic or subtonic of the sylabic compound, the case 
would not be regarded by the rule of sylabic combination; or 
would only be, as we remarked above of a solitary tonic, an 
exception to it. 

I have thus endeavored to show why, in ordinary speech, syla- 
bles cannot be indefinitely extended, when they consist only of 
tonic and subtonic sounds, and consequently when there is no 
obstruction to their continuation, by the interposition of abrupt 
and atonic elements. 

A further consideration of the radical and vanishing movement, 
will inform us why there is, ordinarily, but one effort of accentual 
stress on each sylable. It was shown in the last section that the 
form of force called Accent, is variously laid on the concrete. 
First, by the abrupt explosion of the radical. Second, by magni- 
fying, so to speak, the whole of the concrete, the proportional 
forces of the radical and vanish remaining unaltered. Third, by 
giving more fulness to the middle of the concrete. Fourth, by an 
abrupt stress on the radical, together with an increased force on 
the vanish of the same concrete. Fifth, by greater stress on the 
vanishing portion. Sixth, by making the whole concrete of the 
same fulness as the radical. Five of these forms do not alter the 
singleness of the accentual impression. Something like an excep- 
tion to the rule of a single accent seems to exist in the fourth, as 
will be particularly noticed under the future head of Expression; 
but this condition if an exception, being of rare occurrence, is by 



OX SYLABICATION. 125 

no means contemplated here, in looking at the ordinary phenomena 
of sylabic speech. 

From what has been said, the Reader may perceve the differ- 
ence among sylables, in their tunable quality, and in the gliding 
continuity of voice. The most agreeable in both respects, are 
those formed by a single tonic ; and although the concrete rise of 
a dipthong consists of two dissimilar sounds, it is not inferior 
in the above named characteristics, to the uniform voice of a 
monothong. 

The next degree of eutony or agreeable voice in a sylable is 
that formed by an initial tonic, followed by one or two subtonics, 
asj aim, ale, arm, earn, elm, orle. These have with an agreeable 
vocality, an easy mingling of their constituents; their tonic com- 
mencement, and subtonic vanish allowing an equable concrete 
movement, from the opening to the close of the sylable. 

The gliding continuity is, to a certain degree, impaired in that 
order of elements, where the first sound is a subtonic, as in maims, 
gaje, warm, zearn, realm. As the radical in these cases does not 
properly begin on the first element, there may be in careless pro- 
nunciation, a slight Note or level line of pitch, in the utterance of 
the subtonic preceding the tonic. 

The next of the sylabic combinations contain each of the three 
kinds of elements, asj sivarms, strength, thrown, smiles. Here the 
atonic sounds are not agreeable. They obscure the character of 
the concrete movement; and though they do not destroy its 
singleness of impulse, they are attended with some hiatus, from 
the changes of position in the organs that produce them. 

A few sylables such as the last of lit-tle are made of subtonics 
and atonies, without the addition of a tonic. They are altogether 
without force and fulness in the radical opening; and have a slight 
nasal vocality, which is most remarkable in this case, from its not 
being modified by sylabic union with the clear laryngeal sound of 
the tonics. 

The sylabic impulse has various degrees of smoothness and 
eutony, from the perfect coalescence of the two constituents of a 
dipthongal tonic, when uttered alone as a sylable-; to the transition 
through a concrete compounded of all the elements. There is a 
peculiarity in the structure, and a hiatus in the pronunciation of 



126 ON SYLABICATION. 

certain words, from their apparently embracing two concretes in 
the same sylable. The words flower^ higher, boy, voice, and coin, 
by a slight variation in effort, may each be uttered either as one 
or as two sylables. Under the first condition, they seem severally 
to consist of the union of two tonics in one sylable, which is im- 
possible. When flower is pronounced with a single impulse, it 
must be upon the elements, /, I, ou, and r, and this accords with 
our history of sylabication. When the tonic e-rr is sounded before 
r, the double impulse cannot be avoided, as mflow-er. 

We have considered the sylable as essentially a function of the 
radical and vanish; this function being equally productive of the 
sylabic impulse, in a dowmvard as in an upivard direction. And 
it will be further shown in a future section, when the Reader 
is prepared for the explanation, that the unity of a sylable is not 
destroyed by a movement of the voice in continuity from the up- 
ward into the downward concrete, in what we call the Wave. 

By the light of the preceding analysis, we may perceve causes 
that might otherwise be hidden. Thus, we account for the dis- 
agreeable effect, produced both in utterance, and on the ear, by 
the use of the indefinite article a, before a vowel (or tonic,) and 
by other similar successions; as in aorta. 

When we utter the tonics in series, we may smoothly pass from 
one to the other without a break, and without a point of junction 
being appreciable. In this case, the elements are joined to each 
other by the mediation of the subtonic y-e ; as in enumerating the 
vowelsj a, ye, yi, yo, yu. For the subtonic having a slight occlu- 
sion with its consequent vocule, means are afforded by this occlu- 
sion, and by the outset of this vocule, to give a full opening to 
the tonic : and thus, a true radical may be made on a tonic con- 
tinuous with a preceding subtonic. When we attempt to join the 
article a, to a tonic at the beginning of a following word, an un- 
pleasant perception arises from a want of that occlusion and 
vocule in the tonic article a, which in the subtonic n would give 
an opening radical fulness to the initial tonic of the word. Should 
the article be pronounced short and separately, with a pause after 
it, that the initial tonic may have a full radical opening of its 
own after the pause, the unpleasant effect will in a degree, be 
avoided, though the utterance will be necessarily delayed. In 



ON SYLABICATION. 127 

this way, a, — oivl and a, — age are nearly as unexceptionable, as 
an oivl and an age. The union of n with a tonic, and the same may 
be said of all the subtonics, is an agreeable coalescence, from the 
slight occlusion in these elements; but an attempt to join the 
vanish of one tonic with the radical of another, produces a dis- 
agreeable effort in the organs, and an unpleasant impression on 
the ear. This hiatus, or difficulty in articulation, is caused by a 
deficiency in the fulness of the succeding radical; by an endeavor 
to supply this deficiency, and yet at the same time to pass quickly 
from tonic to tonic; and by the disappointment of the ear, in not 
receving the full impression of the radical, as it is heard in the 
same word on other occasions. We cannot then, in a proximate 
succession of tonics, produce that desirable radical abruptness, 
which is easily accomplished when the tonics are pronounced with 
a pausal rest between them, or after the slight occlusive pause 
produced by the vocule of the subtonics. 

The hiatus accompanying the junction of one tonic with an- 
other, will be less remarkable when the last receves no accentual 
force. Thus it is less in a account, than in a accident: for in 
the first example, a full degree of radical abruptness in the tonic 
a is not required. 

From the hiatus in the above individual instance of the meet- 
ing of two vowels, we are led to observe the general means for 
coalescence, and the general causes of hesitation between the 
elements, under all other positions and connections in current 
speech. One form of coalescences is produced by the vanish of 
a tonic gliding into a subtonic; another by the abrupt breaking 
of the vocule of a subtonic into the radical of a tonic. While at 
common cause of hesitation, is the meeting of the vanish of one 
tonic with the radical of another. There are other causes of 
both coalescence and of hesitation, depending on the character 
and position of the elements, which by the light here thrown upon 
the subject, the Reader can easily observe for himself. The 
principles of sylabication thus founded on the radical and vanish, 
and on the abrupt vocule of the subtonics, embrace the above 
instance of the indefinite article and the initial vowel of a following 
wordj which has long been familiar as a single, but not as a gen- 
eral fact or law of speech. This law, under its specifications here 



128 ON SYLABICATION. 

exemplified, may perhaps be applied by others, to the investigation 
of the causes of stammering, and other defects in articulation. 

From the foregoing view of the essential importance of abrupt- 
ness, in sylabic articulation, the Reader may learn, why I was 
necessarily directed to make it an independent Mode of the voice. 

Through the sylabic agency of the radical and vanish, the 
passed time and perfect participle of some verbs ending in ed, 
when contracted into one sylable, by rejecting the tonic e$ change 
d into t, as: snatch- ed , sn at clit; passed, pass' t; stopp't; checFt. 
For if the e be dropped, the d having a vocality, and possessing 
as a subtonic, the power of a concrete movement, it must, when 
preceded by an abrupt or atonic element, as sh, s, p, and k, in 
the above instances, have a radical and vanish, and consequently 
must make another though a subtonic sylable in place of ed. But 
if the abrupt atonic t is substituted for d, that element having no 
concrete may by uniting with its antecedents, be retained with-, 
out destroying the singleness of the sylabic impulse. It is how- 
ever to be remarked, that the vocule of t has a 'formative effort' 
towards a sylable, but not sufficient to produce the effect of one 
on the ear. 

Those irregular verbs which, by contraction, have their present 
and past times and perfect participle alike, generally end in t, as: 
beat, kept, hurt, let, left. The economy of utterance, or occasions 
for poetical measure^ producing a contraction of the regular ana- 
logical form of beat beated beated, which we may suppose to have 
been the original structure of the verbj the influence of the radical 
and vanish in sylabication, does not allow the contraction to be 
made by the elision of e. For upon this elision, beated can be 
changed to one sylable, as we have seen above, only by substi- 
tuting the atonic t for the subtonic d, as in beat't; and this, not 
being utterable, the single word without the last t would be used 
as the inflection of the verb, and as the participle. 

It is perhaps, owing to the unpleasant effect in subjoining s to 
eh, as the sign of the possessive case, that we have no monosyl- 
abic possessive, in the pronoun which; and without the hiatus, 
this real want would probably have been long ago conveniently 
supplied. With this difficulty in articulation, we often use an 
emphatic circumlocution, to denote the property of a subject. In 



ON SYLABICATION. 129 

the following sentence^ Find me a ring, the diameter of which is 
ten inches^ the word whieh having a literal composition that makes 
it audibly impressive, and when required, an emphatic relative^ 
has here, along with the preposition, too much of that audible 
importance, for its merely expletive meaning in the sentence; 
and thus in a manner, overbears the principal idea of the ring 
and its diameter. Yet to make it a possessive by elision, as in 
winch's, would be even more striking. Nor would it be less so, 
until authorized by custom, to employ its supposed original, which 
its, as with whose (who's) from who his, or who hers; according to 
the old form of the possessive case of nouns. 

It is from the peculiarity of this case, that writers with a deli- 
cate perception of phraseology find those proper occasions, where 
the less-accented that, as a relative, may be fluently substituted 
for this ear-stamping pronoun. Under the like difficulty the best 
Authors, to avoid awkward or affected alliteration, have some- 
times employed whose, in reference to things, as a possessive case 
of which. Fortunately however, by a substitutive and variable 
construction, the copious resources, and available versatility of 
our language, are sufficient to meet all its incidental wants.* 

The foregoing principles may be hereafter applied to explain 
some apparent anomalies in speech, that have hitherto passed 
without scrutiny, or without satisfactory interpretation. But I 
have gone beyond my original intention, in planning the sub- 
ject of this section; and must therefore leave other particulars, 
to the observation, reflection, and time of the inquiring and intel- 
igent Reader. Perhaps I do not excede the bounds of fair anti- 
cipation, in foreseeing his rising interest in this history of the 
voice. But all these things, and more too that shall be told, may 
in looking back from future time, appear, in the distance, to have 

* The above notice of the impressive effect of the pronoun which, might be 
extended to that doubtful part of speech, because, and to the adverb so. These 
words are in a degree emphatic by their literal sound alone; and are to be em- 
ployed in the first instance, for directing attention to some important motive or 
agency ; and in the second, for particular stress, when this word has an infer- 
ential importance. Does their influence depend on the full vocality, and ex- 
tended time of their respective tonics, a-11, and o-ld? And may there not be 
other English words, with a like impressive construction, deserving to be known, 
classed, and thoughtfully used ? 



130 THE MECHANISM 

been the preface only to a full knowledge of this subject^ if he 
will adopt the Method of Inquiry which has thus far assisted me, 
or which is in truth the more than co- efficient Author of this 
Work; if he will become the spy upon Nature through his own 
watchfulness, and not rely on a careless, and often itself a bor- 
rowed authority; if he will turn from those discouraging pros- 
pects, presented by the result of every metaphysical or transcen- 
dental attempt to make knowledge out of notions ; and by entering 
into sober communion with his own senses, lay himself open to 
the advising of those five ministers of Observation, appointed by 
Nature for his counseling in all inquiry after truth. 



«• » >» @ ©*«— 



SECTION V. 

Of the Causative Mechanism of the Voice, in relation to its 
different Qualities, and to its Pitch, 

A description of the different modes and forms of sound in 
the human voice, without exemplification by actual utterance, is 
always insufficient and often uninteligible. With a view to facili- 
tate instruction, it is desirable to ascertain the conformation of 
the vocal organs, together with the action of the air upon them ; 
that a reference to these forms, and to the impulses of the air, 
may enable an observer to exemplify the description of vocal 
sounds, by using the known physical means which produce them. 
The system of parts which effects this peculiar purpose, is called 
the Mechanism of the voice. 

The result of physiological inquiry on this subject is not satis- 
factory. Unfortunately, most physiologists have been public 
teachers, appointed to stations of profit and influence, and re- 
quired to instruct without having always the time, or ability, 
or disposition to investigate. Their condition has obliged them 
to compile without choice, to define and arrange without reflection, 
and to affect an originality perhaps forbidden by the character of 



OF THE VOICE. 131 

their minds, or the multiplicity of their duties. From these pro- 
fessorial instructors, the covered movements of the organs of 
speech seem to cut off the means of observation; and feigning 
themselves under a necessity to teach, what they had never 
learned, they have endeavored to elude the difficulty, by devising 
some of those works of fiction long ago designed by the Craft of 
Mastership, for satisfying the cravings of undiscerning youth. 
The thoughtless wishes of the scholar have been respectfully re- 
garded by the teacher; and sketches of knowledge from his ac- 
commodating pencil have frequently been rather a worked-out 
picture of the pupil's vain conceits and authorities, than of the 
truth, and nothing but the truth of nature. 

There are few confirmed opinions among physiologists, on the 
mechanism of the voice; and by the duties of philosophy we are 
bound to acknowledge much ignorance and error on this subject. 
We know that the voice is made by the passage of air through 
the larynx, and cavities of the mouth and nose. From experi- 
ments on the human larynx, or on artificial imitations of its 
structure ; and from observations upon the vocal mechanism, by 
exposing the organs in living animals^ it is infered with great 
probability, that voice procedes immediately from the ligaments 
of the glottis. We have no precise knowledge of the causes of 
Pitch; its formation having been by authors differently attributed 
to variations in the aperture of the glottis ; to the difference of 
length in its chords; their varied degrees of tension; the varying 
velocity of the current of air through the aperture of the glottis; 
the rise and fall of the whole larynx, and the consequent varia- 
tion of length in the vocal avenues, between the glottis and the 
external limit of the mouth and of the nose; and finally, to the 
influence of a combination of two or more of these causes. Nor 
are we acquainted with the mechanisms, respectively producing 
those varieties of sound called Vocality, Natural voice, Whisper, 
and Falsette. Each of these varieties has receved some theoretic 
explanation; and their locality has, without much precision, been 
severally assigned to the chest, the throat, and the head. 

These discordant and fictional accounts have been in some 
measure, the consequence of conceiting a resemblance, between 
the organs of the voice and common instruments of music; and 



182 THE MECHANISM 

under fluctuations of opinion which have represented the vocal 
mechanism to be like that of mouthed, or reeded, or stringed in- 
struments, the wildness of these still incomplete analogies has run 
into outrage of all similitude, by comparing the avenue of the 
fauces, mouth, and nose, to the body of a flute; and ascribing 
false intonation, to an inequality of tension between what are 
called the ' strings of the glottis.' We are too much disposed to 
measure the resources of nature, by the limited inventions of art. 
The forms and other conditions of matter, which jointly with the 
motion of air may produce sound, must be innumerable; and it 
certainly is not an enlarged analogical view of the mechanism of 
the human voice, which regards the functions of those few forms 
only that have receved the name of ' musical instruments.' 

The ilustrations these analogies were supposed to afford, have 
been no more than Theoretic resting places for the mind, in the 
perplexing pursuit of truth. The physiologists of antiquity thought 
they explained the mysteries of the voice, when they compared the 
trachea to a musical pipe; and science reposed from the time of 
Galen, to that of Dodart and Ferrein in the eighteenth century, 
on the satisfaction produced by this supposition. The means 
of ilustration have followed the fashion of instruments, and of 
late years, the chords of the Eolian harp and the reed of the 
hautboy have furnished their mechanical pictures of the vocal 
organs. One cannot say positively^ a resemblance of the mech- 
anism of the voice, to that of some known instrument of music, 
may not be proved hereafter; but cautious reflection will guard 
us against surprise on a future discovery, that in most points, the 
formative causes in the two cases are totally dissimilar. Before 
the use of the balloon for the support and progress of man upon 
the air, no one ever imagined the possibility of his flight, by any 
other instrumentality than that of wings. 

The history of the voice records its exact anatomy, and some 
important physiological experiment, together with inferences from 
the mechanism of musical instruments, applied without much pre- 
cision, to the human organs. We seem to have been so entirely 
convinced of the analogy between these cases, and have relied so 
implicitly on systems constructed upon it, that we have forgotten 
the importance of unbiased observation. Presumption in sup- 



OF THE VOICE. 133 

posing the fulness of knowledge already accomplished, and despair 
in thinking it unattainable, are equally adverse to the efforts of 
improvement. The panurgic or all-working power of Baconian 
Science directs us by its productive rules, to record all the phe- 
nomena of the voice; and requires us in our classifications, to 
know resemblances and differences, not to invent them. There is 
no doing without the assistance of Analogies^ as well when look- 
ing into the co-relation of the arts, as in observing the processes 
of nature. With peculiar adaptation to a varied office, they are 
the all-assistant counselors of intelect, in the discovery of that 
original truth, which they are afterwards to teach and to beautify 
by ilustration : they should not however be confounded with the 
truth itself, which they serve only to develope and adorn. In the 
present inquiry, it might be proper to take into consideration 
every analogy, in artificial instruments of sound; but when a 
strict use of the senses cannot prove a similarity of mechanism 
between them and the vocal organs, it is no benefit to retain 
as parts of a science, those unfounded means that cannot ilus- 
trate, after they have been unsuccessfully used to discover its 
truth.* 

* After the directive principles of the Novum Organum had accomplished 
much of the promised work of scientific precision, and before they have been 
duly applied to rectify the errors of every Theoretic Faithj for which they are 
all-sufficient, and were prospectively intended^ we are invited to new efforts of 
inquiry, by the additional method of a ' Positive Philosophy,' to assist the pro- 
gressive purpose of its all-sufficient prototype. But English and American 
philosophy has too often been deluded into belief of fiction and falsehood, under 
the promise of Positive science, for this Word to afford in our common language, 
a favorable omen of exactness in observation and thought. Nor has the flag 
that bears it as yet waved over any important 'annexation' of truths beyond 
the acquisitions of that Commanding Philosophy, which has gone the way ot' 
victory before it. On the other hand, the Baconian system of observation has 
long hung its banner of science, across the Newtonian Sky; and is daily bring- 
ing from- the depths of the earth, the historic leaves of Creation's Stone-and- 
Fossii Book; has raised its trophies of ingenius art, and national wealth, over 
the coal fields of Newcastle, the founderies of Wales, the thousand productive 
engines of Sheffield and Manchester, the wonders of locomotive-agency, on every 
sea, and civilized landj and over that Electric tongue, which speaks in a moment, 
the exchanging purposes of commerce, between them all. The power of this 
philosophy, while it has already furnished those great physical advantages, 
still holds within itself, the sure but unused means of clearing-up the obscurity 
of every intelectual and moral mystification. 

To those great results of the boundless purposes of the Observative System, 



134 THE MECHANISM 

When I speak of our ignorance of the mechanical causes of the 
different kinds of voice, and of their pitch, let me be clearly com- 
prehended. To know a thing, as this phrase is applied in most of 

I presume to join this humble contribution. The success of that system, 
on our present subject of speech, which has so long resisted all other means 
of inquiry and which has too incautiously been considered, beyond discrimina- 
tionj may indeed be only a triumph within the narrow field of Vocal Physiology, 
and Taste; yet poorly as it may compare with those extended practical achieve- 
ments, it is equally with them, a triumph in principle and method, of the wise 
and comprehensive design of the Baconian science; which, like the unlimited 
circuit of Nature, thus encompasses both the greatest and the least. 

Although Nature, the just and sole Executrix of Providential Will, knows not, 
in the agency of her laws, the human prompting of Enthusiasm, yet we may be 
pardoned if we should feel it, towards that Mighty Method, which by unfolding 
her works, teaches that for her ceaseless energies she never requires it. 

Does truth allure thee? Learn befictioned man, 
At Bacon's word, her dawning light began; 
Learn how that light's Redeeming ray has shined, 
With gleams of whole Salvation o'er the mind. 
And should that Mind to truth's full-light be brought, 
'Twill be their task, who Think as Bacon Thought. 

When the distinguished Poet, and author of the well known and malicious 
epigram, applied the inconsistent epithets, 'greatest, brightest, and meanest,'' to 
one and the same Exalted Intelect, he committed as great a solecism in his ad- 
jectivesj as he did in his verbs, when describing the mules and wagons return- 
ing from Mount Ida, with wood for the funeral pile of Patroclus^ he has the 
following unsuccessful attempt to make a prolonged quantity, the verbal sign 
of a cautious animal pace. , 

First move the heavy mules securely slow, 

O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er rocks, o'er crags [headlong of course) they go. 

The history of the celebrated line of discordant adjectives j, the joint work of 
Pope and Bolingbrokej is short. 

The great Benefactor while preparing posterity for a full survey of the truth 
and beauty of Nature, happened, in his Essays, to make the general remark^ 
that deformed persons, regarding themselves -as exceptions to the perfect order 
of her Laws, and as objects of pity or scorn; endeavor to meet with even-hand 
the hardship of their lot, by a dissatisfied and jealous temper towards the world ; 
though he kindly allows^ their condition has sometimes been the incentive to 
great exertion and excelence. It is the malice of the misshapen Poet, ap- 
parently excited by this remark, that here obliges us to allude unwillingly to 
his misfortune; for on reading this popular Work of the Philosopher, he may 
from the fictional habit of his own mind, together with his poetical egotism, 
have taken the remark as personal to himself, though then unborn; and thus 



OF THE VOICE. 135 

the subjects of human inquiry, is to have that opinion of its char- 
acter and cause, which authority, analogical argument, and partial 
observation, prompted by various motives of vanity or interest, may 
direct. To know, by physical research, we must employ our senses, 
and contrive experiments, on the subject of inquiry; and admit 
no belief, which may not in its proper way, be made undeniable 
by demonstration. Physiology has too long been led by a fictional 
guide; and no branch more conspicuously than that of the mech- 
anism of the human voice. One, from the analogy of musical 
strings, supposes Pitch to be produced by the varied tension of 
the chords of the glottisj without showing a correspondence of the 
degrees of tension with the degrees of pitch. Another, that the 
vibration of these chords performs the same functions as the reed 
of the hautboyj without showing the manner in which this laryn- 
geal reed fixes the degrees of intonation. A third ascribes the 
pitch of the falsette to the agency of the base of the tongue, the 
fauces, the soft palate, and uvulaj without showing any fixed 
points of relationship, between the parts of this cavernous struct- 
ure and the current of expiration, in the production of concrete 
or discrete pitch. 

When therefore we seek to know the mechanism of the voice, it 
should be, to see, or to be truly told by those who have seen, the 

have joined to his constitutional and peevish irritability, a revengeful disposi- 
tion towards the Author. 

Lord Bolingbroke having furnished Pope with his sententious prose reflections, 
was not by Rank and Title or by Head and Heart, so simply generous towards 
the 'Brightest and Greatest of mankind^' thus sacrificed by the 'smooth bar- 
barity' of King and Courtier, for his venial share of the besetting sins of every 
ambitious public station^ as afterwards to condemn and erase, if he did not 
direct the vindictive couplet of his versifying amanuensis; but meanly, if with 
jealousy of a superior intelect, left it for any ignorant and self-righteous pharisee, 
to quote, and to thank God, on the comparison, that he is not like other men, 
nor even as the High Chancelor Bacon. 

If Pope's greediness of praise, that vicious appetite of prideless and limited 
minds, had led him to turn into heroic measure, the Essays of his great Superior, 
instead of Bolingbroke's philosophic generalities, which it is said he did not 
widely comprehend^ he would have had clear, broad, and practical thoughts, 
with all the pith of poetical maxims, to work upon; and might have induced 
posterity to overlook some of his own contentious vanity, and annoying caprices, 
through an odd comparison of his pigmy share of rhyme and reflection, with the 
greatness of an Immortal fame. 



13G THE MECHANISM 

whole process of the action of the air on the vocal organs, in the 
production of the vocality, force, pitch, and articulation of speech. 
This method and this alone, produces permanent knowledge; and 
elevates our belief above the condition of vulgar opinion, and 
sectarian dispute. The visibility of most of the parts concerned 
in Articulation, has long since produced among physiologists, 
some agreement as to the agency of those parts. Yet after all I 
have been able to observe and learn, on the subject of Vocality 
and Pitch, I must in speaking the language of an exact philosophy, 
fairly confess an entire ignorance of their mechanical causations: 
and the great difference on this point among authors, should go 
far towards destroying respect for the most of their opinions.* 

As this section is addressed principally to physiologists, I omit 
a description of the organs of the voice, as it may be found in 
all the manuals of anatomy; and it would be useless to transcribe 
an account of structures and actions, when we know not with 
specific reference, what vocal effect those actions produce. The 
general statement of our problem is, that some part or parts of 
the breathing passages produce all the modes, forms, varieties, 
and degrees of the human voice. It is the purpose of anatomy to 
describe the structure of these partsj and of physiology to ex- 
plain its actions, that they may be made a subject of permanent 
science. But observation of the living actions of this structure 
has almost universally thrown the first light upon its physiological 
causes and effects. It has been the part of anatomy to confirm 
or complete our knowledge of them; agreeably to the saying of 
the Greek philosophy, that what is first to nature in the act 
of creation, is the last to man in the labor of inquiry. On the 
subject of the mechanism of the voice, we are yet occupied with 
the perplexities of analysis ; when that work shall be finished, we 
may begin again with muscles, cartilages, ligaments, mucous tis- 
sues, and the os hyoides, and describe their actions with the 
synthetic steps of successive causation. 

In the meantime, we should not so far follow the example of 

* If the Reader cannot now agree with me, on the importance of the purely 
observative use of the mind, here recommended for every thing, let him wait 
till he has finished this volume, before he pronounces that it has been therein 
unproductive. 



OF THE VOICE. 137 

System-makers and Professors, as to furnish an account of the 
mechanism of the voice, soley because it is desirable and may be 
looked for. Aiming to serve truth with our senses, we should de- 
scribe what is distinguishable by the ear in the different kinds of 
voice, together with the visible structure and movement of the 
organs ; in the hope, that by an acknowledgment of our present 
ignorance, and by future observation and experiment, other in- 
quirers may arrive at the certainty, which through a different 
method of investigation has never yet been attained. 

The thirty-five elements of speech may be heard under four dif- 
ferent kinds of voice; the Natural, the Falsette, the Whispering, 
and that improved vocality to be presently described under the 
name of the Orotund. 

The Natural, or what we call Vocality, is employed in ordinary 
speaking. Its compass includes a range of pitch from the lowest 
utterable sound, up to that point at which the voice is said to 
break. At this place the natural ceases, and the higher parts of 
the scale are made by a shriler kind called the Falsette. The 
natural voice is capable of the discrete, the concrete, and the 
tremulous progression. By the concrete and tremulous move- 
ment, the natural may be continued into the falsette without a 
perceptible point of union : for the concrete rise in vehement in- 
terrogation, sometimes passes above the limit of the natural scale, 
and thereby avoids that unpleasant break in the transition to the 
falsette, which in the discrete scale is remarkable both as to 
sound, and to difficulty in executive effort, except with persons 
of great vocal skill. The peculiar defect of vocality and of in- 
tonation at this point of the discrete scale of song, has receved 
the name of 'false note.' 

The natural voice is said to be produced by the vibration of the 
chords of the glottis. This has been infered, from a supposed 
analogy between the action of the human organ, and that of the 
dog, in which the vibration has been observed, on exposing the 
glottis during the cries of the animalj and from the vibration of 
the chords, by blowing through the human larynx, when removed 
from the body. The conclusion is therefore probable, but until 
it is seen in the living function of the part, or until there is suf- 
10 



13S THE MECHANISM 

ficient approximation to this proof by other means, it cannot be 
admitted as a portion of exact physiological science. 

With regard to the mechanical cause of the Variations of Pitch 
in the natural voice, different notions, and they are only notions, 
have been proposed by their respective advocates. They were 
transiently enumerated above.* 

On this subject, about which we know so little, but on which 

* Shortly after the first publication of this Work, in January, eighteen hun- 
dred and twenty-seven: Mr. Robert Willis, of Caius College, Cambridge, follow- 
ing up the experiments of Kratzenstein and Kempelen, obtained by means of 
tubular and other ingenius contrivances, many interesting results, approaching 
to the satisfactory conclusion, that vocal sound is produced, on the principle of 
the Reed, by the vibration of the ligamentous chords of the glottis. The arti- 
ficial contrivances further showed by analogy, that Pitch may be in part pro- 
duced by certain variations of these chords, as they form the aperture of the 
glottis; still leaving it undetex-mined, by what other influence this pitch may 
be partly made or modified, in the proper vocal organ. By another contrivance, 
he was enabled to produce several of the vowel sounds. 

The purpose of this Volume does not require a special notice of the interest- 
ing details of Mr. Willis' inquiry. They do not however, in point of precise 
and permanent knowledge, extend the subject much beyond what we have 
stated in the text, to be the opinions of other writers; and it is there said in 
caution^ we must not suppose, the mechanism of the voice necessarily resem- 
bles that of certain instruments of music : for to be known perfectly, it must be 
known in itself. 

It is but a partial view, to show that vowel sounds may be made by certain 
kinds of tubes, in connection with a reed, and a bowl with a sliding cover. Con- 
sonants as well as vowels are only different kinds of sound, that may be classed, 
according to their causes, as Human, Sub-Animal, and Mechanical. The human 
are few, the sub-animal, and mechanical, innumerable. Our perception of the 
human vowels with their alphabetic characters, and with thoughts and passions, 
when united with consonants into words, seems to represent them as altogether 
different from sub-animal and mechanical sounds. There is no vowel in the 
voice of man, that is not to be heard from some speechless brute, or bird, or 
insect, or in the innumerable sounds, made by the reciprocal action between air, 
and the varied forms and conditions of solids and fluids. The fauces and larynx 
offer only the case of a peculiar and moistened structure, forming those sounds, 
which in the egotism of our education, hardly our constitution, we have so far 
identified with humanity, as to prevent our immediate notice of similar sub-ani- 
mal and mechanical sounds. 

The common words of the world veil the true relationship of things, till phi- 
losophy draws-aside the curtain; and nine-tenths of mankind, who may think 
themselves very observant, never perceve in the jet of a fountain, the click of a 
time-piece, the grating of a saw, and the rapid friction of a cable, some of those 
prerogative elements, which set them as they suppose, so far above the brute. 



OF THE VOICE. 139 

theorists are ready to fix on any things it is well to begin the in- 
vestigation of some current opinions, with the process of exclu- 
sion ; by showing what does not produce pitch, in the visible parts 
of the vocal apparatus. 

The Pitch of the natural voice does not appear to be directly 
produced by the mouth and fauces, for it will be seen on exam- 
ination, that the rise and fall through the scale, may be severally 
effected on all the tonic elements; and that during the exclusive 
intonation of each, the positions of the tongue and fauces remain 
unaltered^ if we except some slight unsteadiness of the tongue 
and soft palate, which can have no relation to the definite divisions 
of pitch. 

The sound of a-we is made, while the tongue is about on a 
level with the lower teeth; the mouth being open, for observa- 
tion, and all the parts of this vocal cavity having the same posi- 
tion, as in an act of silent respiration. In performing the run of 
pitch on this element, we must however, have regard to a change 
of the mechanism of its radical, to that of e-rr, in the articulation 
of its vanish, which however, has no effect in this case, as it exists 
equally in the downward pitch. The sound of e-ve is made by 
approximating the tongue to the roof of the mouth, leaving be- 
tween them a narrow passage for the air. In one of these instances, 
the avenue of the mouth and fauces is free; in the other, the 
tongue almost closes the back of the mouth, and must be nearly 
in contact with the veil of the palate, and the arch of the fauces. 
Yet in each case the respective positions remain unaltered, 
throughout the variations of pitch; and in both, the pitch is 
made with equal facility and exactness. 

Among the subtonics, the pitch of ng is made when the cur- 
rent of air through the mouth is completely obstructed, by con- 
tact of the base of the tongue with the soft palate. TA-en, on 
the other hand, may be intonated through the scale, although it 
is produced by the stream of expiration over the tip of the tongue, 
in contact with the upper fore-teeth. 

It is unnecessary to refer to the visible positions of the mouth 
and fauces in the production of other elements. The identity of 
pitch, under all their various mechanisms, must lead to the con- 
clusion, that the Pitch of the natural voice is not produced by the 
action of these parts. 



140 THE MECHANISM 

As the pitch of the element ng, is made by the stream of air 
passing directly from the glottis through the nose, without enter- 
ing into the fauces and the cavity of the mouth, we may inquirej 
whether the varieties of pitch, if produced above the glottis, are 
made in the avenue of the nose. But pitch may be made when 
the air does not pass through the nose. Pitch too is a variable 
function; the parts within the nose are incapable of motion. 

The Falsette is a peculiar voice, in the higher degrees of pitch, 
beginning where the natural voice breaks, or outruns its compass. 
The piercing cry, the scream, and the yell are various forms of 
the falsette. It must not however be supposed that the compass 
of the falsette lies restrictively, between its highest practicable 
note, and the point where the natural voice ends; for the same 
kind of falsette-sound may by effort, be formed even below the 
usual point of separation of the two voices, or the place of what 
is called the ' false note.' 

All the elements except the atonies, which are only aspirations, 
may be made in falsette. It has been already remarked, that the 
unpleasant effect both of sound and of effort, in the change from 
natural to falsette intonation, is obviated when the transition is 
made by the concrete, and by the tremulous scales. 

The striking difference between the natural and the falsette 
voices, has given rise to the belief of a difference in the respective 
mechanisms, not only of their kind of sound, but likewise of their 
pitch. 

It has been supposed, the falsette is produced at the 'upper 
orifice of the larynx, formed by the summits of the arytenoid 
cartilages and the epiglottis:'* and the difficulty of joining it to 
the natural voice, which is thought to be made by the inferior 
ligaments of the glottis, is ascribed to the change of mechanism 
in the transition. On this I have only to add, that the falsette 
or a similar voice, but without its acuteness, may be brought 
downward in pitch, below the highest point of the natural voice; 
at least I am able so to reduce itj producing what seems to be a 
unison, or an octave concord of the natural and the falsette : and 
since the natural voice may by cultivation be carried above the 

* See a summary of (he discoveries and opinions of M. Dodart, in Rees' Cy- 
clopedia, under the article, Voice. 



OF THE VOICE. 141 

point it instinctively reaches, it leads to the inquiry, whether 
these voices may have a different agency of mechanism; regarding 
these additions to the range of pitch, and the effort in acquiring 
a command over themj as according rather with the supposition 
of a difference in the mechanical cause of the two voices, than 
with that of an extension of the powers of the same organization.* 

As we are ignorant of the mechanical cause of the falsetto, the 
cause of its pitch is equally unknown. But fiction is ever ready 
to supply the wants of ignorance; and the peculiarity of the 
falsette, leading physiologists to infer a difference between its 
mechanism and that of the natural voice, they have supposed the 
pitch of the former is made above the larynx, by the back parts 
of the mouth. It is unnecessary to give the particulars of this 
fiction, as there seems to be no other foundation for it, than that 
of a sort of antithesis in causation; for the natural voice, from 
which the falsette differs so much, is supposed to be made within 
the larynx. Whatever may have been the origin of the notion, 
we have had from somebody, a full theoretic explanation, when 
there is scarcely fact enough to warrant a plausible conjecture. 

In our ignorance of the cause of the variations of pitch in 
falsette, we may perhaps lessen the opportunities for being led 
into fiction, in showing what it is not. 

* The character of this reduced falsette, if I may so call it, consisting of an 
apparent combination of its peculiar sound -with the natural voices and pro- 
ducing a kind of resonant vocality, may, in a manner, be ilustrated on the flageo- 
let, by singing or rather by what is called 'humming,' while blowing it. A 
similar sound is made by joining a vocal murmur with the shrill aspiration of 
whistling. Both these cases however, have more of a buzzing vibration, than 
is heard in the reduced or hoarse falsette. 

There is occasionally heard in women, an attractive and conciliating sweet- 
ness of voices with the natural Pitch of the sex tempered by fulness into dignity ; 
and that seems to be a resonant union of the Soprano, and the Contralto, deli- 
cately similar to the ruder resonance of the reduced Falsette; a voice, when 
trained to the truth and grace of elocution-; delightful in social life, in the Read- 
ing-Circle, and in the easier feminine efforts of the Stage: but wanting the 
Matron-power of intonation for that gravity of passionless thought, and vigor 
of thoughtful passion which exalts the style of Intelectual Tragedy. I leave 
every one, to describe for himself, the effect of this voice, when it is the instru- 
ment of a mind with discretion, good temper, refined familiarity, and with 
knowledge enough for the important discovery, that it was made, not to be self- 
willed, but to think for itself. 



142 THE MECHANISM 

If the cavity of the mouth be observed during the exercise 
of the falsette on the element a-we, very little alteration will be 
perceved in the positions of the surrounding parts; except some 
slight contractile movement in the uvula as the pitch rises, and 
when this is strained to its highest degree, an almost total disap- 
pearance of the uvula within the veil of the palate. That the 
contraction of the uvula, in the higher notes of falsette, is not the 
sole cause of its pitchj and that it is not produced by parts of the 
vocal passage situated above the glottis, seems conclusive from 
the following considerations. 

The elements n and m} both being made by the passage of air 
from the glottis, soley through the nosej can be precisely intonated 
in the falsette scale. In this case the current of expiration does 
not pass-by the soft palate, uvula, sides of the fauces and base of 
the tongue; parts of the mouth supposed to be the cause of pitch 
in this voice. 

All the tonic and subtonic elements can be made in the falsette. 
But it is not in accordance with the laws of sound, that the iden- 
tical falsette, and its pitch, should be made under a mechanism so 
varied, that the formative cause of some of the elements, as of 
a-we and a-n, give a clear passage to expiration through the 
mouth, and that of others, as e-ve, I, and r, nearly obstruct it. 

As the falsette may be made by inspiration through the nose 
with a closed mouth, the air cannot come into contact with the 
parts of the mouth which have been assigned as the mechanism of 
the falsette. If we inhale through a tube, with one end reaching 
beyond the soft palate, the falsette may be carried through its 
pitch, thus formed by inspiration ; though the current of air in 
this case does not impress the soft parts at the back of the mouth, 
but passes from the tube directly into the glottis. And the same 
is true of expiration, where the current passes directly from the 
glottis into the tube. 

I have at this time a case under professional treatment, in 
which the tonsils are so enlarged by disease, that their near ap- 
proach to each other, allows only space for the uvula to hang be- 
tween them; thus obstructing the passage of air through the 
mouth, except by an eifort; and presenting a structure altogether 
different from the common condition, assigned as the mechanical 



OF THE VOICE. 143 

cause of the falsette. And yet this individual is able to make the 
falsette intonation. 

I had lately an opportunity of seeing an instance of malforma- 
tion, where the whole soft palate is wanting. The passage to the 
throat being a single arch, curving along the edge of the palate 
bone, instead of the low double arch, formed by the soft palate 
and depending uvula in the perfect fauces. Adhering to each 
side of the arch, just above the tonsil, there is a small tuber or 
fleshy dropj seemingly formed by the curtain of the soft palate, 
being divided vertically through the uvula to the palate bone; 
and each portion of the curtain being then drawn within the soft 
parts on its respective side, except the drops, or lower parts of 
the semi-uvulas, which project in the manner and place above de- 
scribed. This is the state, at rest. In straining the highest notes 
of the falsette, the two projecting uvular- drops, by some peculiar 
muscularity, make an effort to approach each other horizontally 
across the mouth, and thereby convert the semicircular arch into 
the form of a horse-shoe^ by drawing inwards, each about half an 
inch, along the diameter of the arch. Here then, the principal 
part of the apparatus, said to produce the falsette, is wanting; 
yet this voice and its degrees of pitch are accurately executed by 
the individual, notwithstanding her deformity. 

The back parts of the mouth are in their function, too varia- 
ble under the accidental influence of muscular eflbrt, to be the 
mechanical cause of the fixed and accurate degrees of the scale. 
For when any one point of pitch is maintained, the soft palate 
and its appendage the uvula, may be seen to undergo involuntary 
movements, that do not appear to have any effect on the voice. I 
am able to make twenty-four distinct notes with accurate intona- 
tion ; fifteen are natural and nine falsette. In running through 
this compass on the dipthong a-we, in which the articulative 
mechanism of an open mouth and embedded tongue, allows the 
isthmus or opening of the fauces to be distinctly seenj I perceve 
no alteration of position in executing the natural notes, except 
that of the articulative change, when the voice rises into e-rr, the 
obscure vanish of this dipthong. There is indeed an unsteadiness 
in the positions, but none of that definite gradation in organic 
changes, implied in the ascription of the variations of pitch to the 



144 THE MECHANISM 

motions of the back part of the mouth. In intonating the falsette 
discretely, on the dipthong a- we, I perceve some change in the 
palate, but little or none in the tongue, if the vanish e-rr is 
avoided. The change in the palate consists of a convulsive 
action of the uvula, which starts-up, as the radical of a-we opens 
on each degree of the scale, and the next moment descends. This 
convulsive action is not apparent when the voice ascends by the 
concrete; though under the use of both scales, the uvula at the 
highest rise of the falsette is contracted almost to disappearance. 
That this extreme contraction is not productive of pitch in the 
falsette, I have endeavored to show; but am not able to say, 
whether it arises from some connection in muscular action, or 
from some change of the articulative mechanism in its higher 
notes. 

I have offered these few remarks, in acknowledging my igno- 
rance of the mechanical cause of the peculiar sound and the pitch 
of the falsette. 

The Whispering voice is well known. It is an aspiration^ and 
makes the short impulse, and the final Vocule, of the atonic 
elements. These then are necessarily a whisper. All the other 
elements though properly vocal, may be likewise made by aspira- 
tion. The whisper of b, d, and g, though considered by Holder 
and his followers as identical with the atonies p, t, and &, is to my 
ear at least, faintly distinguishable from them, by having a less 
easy outset, and by a slight initial effort of articulation. 

We are not acquainted with the mechanical cause of whisper, 
as distinguished from that of vocality in the natural voice. It has 
been ascribed to the operation of the current of air on the sides 
of the glottis, when its chords are at rest ; whereas vocality is said 
to procede from the agitation of the air by the vibration of those 
chords. This however is merely an inference from analogy, and 
has a claim to possibility, but no more. 

The whispering voice has its variation of pitchj though it is 
effected in a very different manner from that of the natural and 
the falsette. The intonation of these voices, as shown above, 
is not connected with the visible movements of the mouth, tongue, 
and fauces, which produce articulation. But if there has been no 
error in my observation, the transit through the scale of whisper 



OF THE VOICE. 145 

is somehow made within the vocal organs, by taking different 
elements for the successive steps of the discrete movement ; each 
whispered element being itself incapable of variation in pitch, 
while its true articulation remains unchanged. 

For the explanation of this subject, let us designate three forms 
of the whispering voice. The Articulated, consisting in the pro- 
nunciation of the alphabetic elements; the Whistled, having the 
well-known shrilness of this function ; and the Sufflated, a husky 
breath, partaking of the character of the two former, without 
having the shrilness of one, or the articulation of the other. 
When in Articulated Whisper, the tonics are distinctly pro- 
nounced, without running into Sufflation, the changes of pitch 
are made upon changes of the elements. In the order of articu- 
lated intonation, oo-ze is the lowest in the scale, and e-ve the 
highest: the succession by the first, third, and fifth, through two 
octaves, being upon the seven following elements. 

First Octave. Second Octave. 



1 3 5 81 3 5 8 

oo-ze a-we a-rt e-rv e-\l a-le e-ve 

This scale of articulated whisper is of so peculiar a character 
that I do not presume to speak without doubt upon it; for even 
a seeming anomaly in intonation, leads me, under a strong belief 
in the uniformity of the laws of nature, to question my own ob- 
servation ; and to call for the assistance of others. If however, 
this is the real construction of the scale, for so it appears to mej 
each intermediate note must consist of sounds that resemble those 
contiguous to it. Thus when we require a second note in the 
progression between oo-ze and a-we, the first, and third in the 
scale, it must partake of the articulation of both these elements. 
And of the two sounds for the sixth and the seventh, between 
a-rt and e-rr, one will partake more of the articulation of a-rt 
and the other of e-rr. But as these intermediate sounds are not 
used as whispered elements in our language, they cannot be made 
without great difficulty, and only after long and careful effort. 
Hence the intonation of articulated whisper is rarely executed 
with precision, except at the points numbered in the preceding 



146 THE MECHANISM 

scries ; for we have only the whispered elements which are em- 
ployed at those points. 

In the above exemplification, I have given only seven tonics; 
but we formerly enumerated twelve, and if c-oy is admitted as a 
dipthong, there are six more to which I have not allotted separate 
places, in the whispered scale. Of these, o-ld takes its place with 
oo-ze ; z'-sle, and ow-r.with a-we ; i-i with e-ve ; and a-n comes next 
before e-rr. This appears to me to be the position of these six 
tonics. Yet I cannot offer the observations, as altogether satis- 
factory to my ear, and therefore leave the subject for others.* 

* It is necessary to remark, that a delicate ear, and a practical knowledge of 
the scale are required for measuring these degrees of whispered articulation. 
The extent of the series of elements given in the text being through two octaves, 
the series must begin on the gravest degree of pitch. I cannot on this subject 
draw from the experience of others; but in executing the rising order of these 
elements, I take oo-ze at the very lowest point at which the articulation, freed 
from whistle and sufflation, can be madej to bring the highest place of e-ve, 
within the reach of intonation; my voice being just able to compass these two 
octaves in articulated whisper. As a matter for further investigation, it may 
not be irrelevant to remark, the coincidence in my own case, of the number of 
degrees in the scale of whispered articulation with that of the natural voice ; 
both being about fifteen. 

Let me here add a thought, on the ground that the intonation of articulated 
whisper is as I have observed it. The mechanism of the whispered, and of the 
vocal elements being the same; and the places of the several whispered elements 
being fixed points of the scale; a record of the order of these intonated articula- 
tions might perhaps lead to a recovery, if lost, of the sounds of the vowel-sym- 
bols of the natural voice. 

For example, suppose the fixed place and order of the whispered elements, 
together with the parts of the vocal organs and their actions, to be described. 
By assuming the known position and action of those parts in producing an ele- 
ment, and expiring at the same time, the designed articulation would be effected. 
Thus any one whispered element being found, its place on the scale is also found; 
and the fixed place of this element being known, the rest, by their order of up- 
ward and downward discrete intonation, must necessarily be found; and the 
pronunciation of the seven whispered tonics may be ascertained. But the whis- 
pered and the vocal tonics have respectively the same mechanism. It would 
therefore be required, only to direct the stream of vocality through this mechan- 
ism, and thus to convert the whisper into vocality^ in order to have the recovered 
knowledge of the tonics, as they were used in a language, of which the phonetic 
means of recognition had been lost. 

The interesting discoveries by Young, and his coadjutors, of the vocal ele- 
ments of the old Egyptians, hidden so long under their peculiar symbols^ were 
the happy result of the record of a few proper names: and the subsequent de- 



OF THE VOICE. 147 

The pitch of the sufflated whisper appears to he made in the 
same manner as that of the articulated. For in rising through 
the scale, this sufflation has a husky resemblance to the whispered 
elements; oo-ze being the lowest, and e-ve the highest. The suf- 
flated whisper is employed to form the tune of the Jews-harp. 
As the peculiar vibration of air which constitutes the pitch of the 
sufflated element, passes over the tongue of the instrument, this 
tongue, it would seem, vibrates in unison with it. It is owing to 
the difficulty of articulating the intermediate artificial elements 
so to call them, and of fixing their exact place, and consequently 
of intonating the full discrete scale of sufflation, that even a good 
musical ear, is rarely able on first trials, to hit accurately, more 
than the third, fifth, and octave, on the scale of this simple in- 
strument. 

The pitch of whistling is also produced by the same mechan- 
ism : for in this case as well as in that of sufflation and of artic- 
ulation, a thin rod passed into the corner of the mouth by depress- 
ing the tongue, destroys the power both of articulation, and of 
ascending the scale. And further, there is in the lowest and the 
highest note of whistling, as well as in those of sufflation, a kind 
of sound however obscure, resembling respectively the articulated 
oo-ze and e-ve. Closing the mouth destroys the articulation of 
whisper and of the natural voice, together with the pitch of the 
three forms of whisper ; with the mouth closed, the whole scale 
may be accurately hummed in the natural voice. The shrilness 
of whistling seems to be made by the aperture between the lips. 
On this subject we might inquire if the intonation of the scale of 
wind instruments is not in some cases produced altogether by the 

velopments by the sagacious and indefatigable Champollion, could not have been 
effected without the aid of the verbal sounds of the old Egyptian language, still 
represented in Coptic writing. 

We here offer a passing hint, for the recovery of lost vowel sounds in any lan- 
guage, founded on the unalterable character, and the instinctive uses of the 
human voice: and if the above account of the pitch of whisper, is given upon 
correct observation^ it shows a curious anomaly on the subject of the mechanism 
of the vocal scale; and intimates, that we are not yet full masters of the physi- 
ology of speech. 

With regard to the consonants, we must keep in mindj their obvious and de- 
scribable mechanism in the natural voice, would if recorded, allow a recovery of 
their phonetic character. 



148 THE MECHANISM 

pitch of sufllated whisper; in others, by its combination with the 
effect of a varied position of the lipsj of a varied force of breathy 
and of the varied ventages or stops. It is well known, that the 
first seven notes of the key of D on the flute, and their corres- 
ponding octaves are severally note and octave, made by the same 
stop. The difference of pitch between a note and its octave in 
this case is produced, not perhaps, by the position of the lips, 
nor by the force of breath, but by a difference in pitch of the 
sufflated whisper. It is perhaps, the same with the notes of the 
flageolet and clarionet.* 

The Subtonic elements when whispered, are individually inca- 
pable of the variations of pitch. Have they like the whispered 
tonics, relatively to each other, different places in the scale ? 

In order to perceve clearly the peculiar character of pitch 
above described, we must, in executing the articulated whisper, 
be careful to make the elements as it were, at the back of the 
mouth ; thereby to avoid falling into the sufflation, and the whistle, 
that have their formative causes nearer the lips. 

The Atonies have singly, no variation of pitch; and if they 
have relations to each other on the scale, they are of no import- 
ance in speech. 

The voice now to be described, is not perhaps in its mechanism, 
different from the natural; but is rather to be regarded as an 
eminent degree of fulness, clearness, and smoothness in its kind 
of vocality, and this may be either native or acquired. 

The limited analysis, and vague history of speech by the an- 
cients, and the further confusion of the subject by commentators 
upon them, leave us in doubt whether the Latin phrase, ' os ro- 
tundumj' used more to our purpose in its ablative, ' ore rotundo,' 
by Horace, in complimenting Grecian eloquencej refered to the 
construction of periods, the predominance or position of vowels, 
or to some peculiar vocality. Whatever may have been the 
original signification of the phrase, the English term ' roundness 
of tone,' specifying as we may suppose, a smooth fulness, seems 
to have been derived from it. 

* It might be inquired, whether the facility in executing the third, fifth, and 
octave, on all mouthed instruments, as well as in the voice, is not connected 
with the use of the peculiar scale of articulated whisper. 



OF THE VOICE. 149 

He who, by observing merely the sound of the voice, has learned, 
for he must learn to admire its grave and impressive fulnessj 
may remember how slowly he came to the perception of its delib- 
erate dignity. Nor will he deny, that its peculiar character would 
have earlier attracted his attention, had it been distinguished by 
a proper oratorical name. On the basis of the Latin phrase, I 
have constructed the term Orotundj to designate that assemblage 
of attributes which constitutes the highest vocal character of the 
speaking voice. 

By the Orotund, or adjectively the Orotund voice, I mean a 
natural, or improved manner of uttering the elements with a 
fulness, clearness, strength, smoothness, and if I may make the 
word, a sub-sonorous vocality ; rarely heard in ordinary speech, 
and never found in its highest excelence, except through long 
and careful cultivation. 

By Fulness of voice, I mean a grave and hollow volume, re- 
sembling the hoarseness of a common Cold. 

By Clearness, a freedom from aspiration, nasality, and vocal 
murmur.* 

By Strength, a satisfactory loudness or audibility. 

By Smoothness, a freedom from all reedy or guttural harsh- 
ness. 

By a Sub-sonorous vocality, its muffled resemblance to the 
resonance of certain musical instruments. 

I know how difficult it is to make such descriptions definite, 
without audible ilustration. Perhaps the best means for instruc- 
tion is to excite attention by terms: to convey the subject of 
these terms as nearly as possible, in figurative language; and to 
leave the recognition of the thing described, to the subsequent 
observation of the learner. The same audible relationships that 
furnished the metaphor, may in due time lead others to acknowl- 
edge the aptness of the ilustation.f 

* By this last term, I mean an obscuring accompaniment of sound, as if the 
whole of the voice had not been made-up into articulation. It is not an unfre- 
quent cause of indistinctness in speakers. 

f Certain reverberations resemble two constituents of the orotund voice. 
Thus vaulted ceilings and coved recesses often give a sub-sonorous echo; and 
speaking with the mouth within an empty vessel produces a hollow fulness. 
One of the best instances I ever heard, of a modification of the human voice 



150 THE MECHANISM 

The mechanical structure and action that produce the orotund 
are to me, after much inquiry, unknown. During its utterance, 
we may perceve a motion and contraction of the back parts of 
the mouth, different from the action of those parts under the 
coloquial voice. But these indications of a cause are so slight 
and so indefinite, that they do not at present appear to justify 
more than this general notice. In our ignorance of the mech- 
anism of speech we are not even able to decide, whether the 
orotund is only an improved quality of the natural voice, or the 
effect of its own peculiar cause. It was said abovej the falsette, 
or something hoarsely like it, is practicable within the range of 
the natural voice, below the place of the ' false note.' Is the 
cause of the orotund the same as that of the reduced, or as 
it may be called, the Basso-falsette ? for this has somewhat of 
the full, hollow, and sub-sonorous effect, ascribed to the acquired 
orotund. 

Connected with the subject of that improved vocality of the 
singing-voice, called by vocalists, 'Pure Tone,' there are several 
terms used to describe the mechanical causes of its different char- 
acters. Among these, the causations implied by the phrases 
'voce di testa,' and 'voce di petto,' or the voice from the head, 
and from the chest, must be considered as not yet manifest in 
physiology; and the notions conveyed by them must be hung up 
beside those metaphorical pictures, which with their characteristic 
dimness or misrepresentation, have been in all ages, substituted 
for the unattainable delineations of the real processes of nature. 

There is a harsh kind of voice called Gutturalj produced by a 
vibratory current of air, between the sides of the pharynx and the 

into a full, hollow, and sub-sonorous, character, "was from a boy who had 
sportfully got into a large copper alembic. 

It may be worth thinking upon, whether the brazen and the earthen vases, 
which were somehow formed, and then somehow set, within the masonry of the 
seats of (J reek theaters, but of which we know so little^ were not designed, with 
perhaps (lie co-operation of the Mask, to modify the voice, to the sub-sonorous 
and hollow fulness of the orotund; as well as to increase its force, and to return 
a concord to its pitch. The speaking-trumpet affords though not agreeably, a 
resemblance to what we would here describe: and could the bugle, or the organ 
diapason be made to articulate, it would give the highest measure of that ful- 
and sub-sonorous effect, which in distant similarity constitute the char- 
acter of the orotund voice. 






OF THE VOICE. 151 

base of the tongue, when apparently brought into contact above 
the glottis. If then the term ' voice from the throat' which has 
been one of the unmeaning or indefinite designations of vocal 
science, were applied to this guttural sound, it would precisely 
assign a locality to the mechanism. 

Although I have not hesitated to acknowledge my ignorance of 
the mechanism of the orotund, I know that its function wherever 
performed, may yet be improved by studious exercise. And as 
the best and only pure instances of this voice are the result of 
cultivation, I here propose some elementary means by which it 
may be acquired. 

It might seem to be sufficient for a teacher of elocution to 
exemplify the orotundj that his pupil might imitate it. "Vocalists 
in their lessons on Pure Tone do little more. But singing has 
long been an Art; and its many votaries have rendered the 
public familiar with its leading terms and principles, and ac- 
customed the ear to the peculiarities of its practice. Whereas 
elocution appears to be with the vast majority, no more than 
a sub-animal instinct ; by which, some only low, bleat, bark, mew, 
chatter, whinny and bray a little better than others. In describ- 
ing therefore, without the opportunity of ilustrating, it becomes 
necessary to address the pupil, as if he had no principles to help 
his intelect, nor exemplified sounds to satisfy his ear. In this 
case, it is desirable to let him teach himself, by refering to func- 
tions of the voice, familiar to him both by daily exercise, and 
name. When the scholastic world shall comprehend our history 
of the speaking voice, and apply it to practice^ the Educated 
Class, in their community of knowledge, will learn the good 
things of elocution from one another; children will catch the 
proprieties of speech from well-taught parents; and many a topic 
of this Work, which I have labored perhaps in vain, to make at 
this time perspicuous, may hereafter, from the unsought en- 
lightening of surrounding knowledge, seem to be perspicuous in 
itself. 

With studious attention, we perceve two different forms of res- 
piration; one being a continued stream of air throughout the 
whole time of expiration; the other consisting in the issue of 
breath by short iterated jets. The first is that of ordinary breath- 



152 THE MECHANISM 

ing, panting, sighing, groaning, and sneezing. The second is 
employed in laughter, crying, and speech.* 

By a command over the muscles of respiration, the speaking- 
breath is frugally dealt out to successive sylables, in limited por- 
tions appropriate to the time and force of each: thereby guarding 
against the necessity of frequent inspirations: while these mo- 
mentary pauses between sylables as well as words, allow an 
opening of the radical for articulation, and instant opportunities 
for recovering the breath. 

The act of coughing is either a series of short abrupt efforts, in 
expiration ; or of one continued impulse which yields-up the whole 
of the breath. This last forms one of the means for acquiring 
the Orotund. The single impulse of coughing is an abrupt utter- 
ance of one of the short tonic vocalities, followed by a contin- 
uation of the atonic breathing A, till the expiration is exhausted. 
Let this compound function, consisting of the exploded tonic 
vocality and the aspiration, be changed to an entire vocality, by 
omitting the sharp abruptness of the cough, and continuing the 
tonic in place of the aspiration. The sound thus produced, will 
with proper cultivation, lead to that full and sub-sonorous char- 
acter, here denominated the orotund. 

This contrived effort of coughing when freed from abruptness, 
is like the voice of Gaping; for this has a hollow and sub-sonor- 
ous vocality, very different from the coloquial utterance of tonic 
sounds. It may be exemplified by giving the tonic a-we, with 
the mouth widely extended ; and by speaking, as far as it is pos- 
sible, in a gaping articulation. 

When the pupil can effect this entire vocality of the artificial 
cough, if it may be distinguished from the usual coughj which, 
with its quick explosion, is in part vocality and part aspiration^ 
let him practice it sufficiently, yet avoiding the initial abruptness, 
and he will not only acquire facility in executing it, but its clear- 

* Laughter and Crying will be particularly noticed hereafter. 

Sighing and Groaning are expirations of similar time; one being an atonic or 
whispered element, the other a tonic vocality. 

Sneezing is a rapid expiration abruptly begun; and generally producing one 
of the elements. 

I say nothing here of the various forms of inspiration connected with these 
acts. 



OF THE VOICE. 153 

ness and smoothness will be thereby improved. Let the voice be 
herein exercised by rising and falling through the concrete scale, 
on each of the tonic elements^ drawing out the vocality to the 
utmost extent of expiration. Then let trials be made on the syl- 
abic combinations.* 

Being able to execute the tonic elements and single sylables 
in the orotund, the pupil is not therefore fully prepared to speak 
continuously in it: and on attempting to utter a sentence in this 
voice, his coloquial manner returns. The cause of this will be 
obvious, by recolecting the distinction between the two kinds of 
expiration. For though he may be able to execute the orotund 
on single sylables, in the continuous stream of vocality, he has 
yet to learn the use of that voice, with those interrupted jets of 
expiration, which are essential to easy and agreeable speech. Con- 
tinued practice however, with a gradual increase in the number 
of sylables, will bring his interrupted expiration of the orotund, 
under available command. 

Although he may then be able to utter any number of succes- 
sive sylables, by interrupted jets of this voice, yet, from having 
therein, no ability to vary the intervals, the manner of their suc- 
cession will be monotonous: he will have no power of expressive 
intonation, and will be unable to make the proper close at the 
end of a sentence. Repeated practice will give correctness and 
variety on these points, and the management of the orotund, for 
the impressive and elegant purposes of speech will in time, be no 
more difficult than that of the coloquial voice. 

The method of gradually acquiring the orotund is similar to 
our instinctive progress through the successive periods of speech. 
The cries of infants are made on the continued stream of vocality. 
It is a long time before they employ the interrupted expiration. 
The first utterance of the child is by an apportionment of a sin- 
gle sylable to a breath. By a preparatory exercise in the inter- 
rupted jets of laughter and crying, the command over expiration, 
and the habit of perfect speech is acquired. The same kind of 

* This process of forcing out the breath to the seeming exhaustion of the 
lungs, is apt to produce giddiness of the head. Care should therefore be taken, 
to avoid continuing the exercise of the voice too long in this manner; and to 
desist for the time, when that affection comes on. 
11 



154 THE MECHANISM 

monosylabic breath, employed in infant articulation, and in ac- 
quiring the orotund, occurs in the debility of age, in pulmonary 
oppression, and in cases of prostration from disease; for here the 
utterance frequently consists of but one, or at most two sylables 
to an act of expiration. The condition is similar in panting from 
violent exercise; the voluntary command over the interrupted jets 
of expiration being therein lost. 

The orotund is possessed in various degrees of excelence by 
eminent Actors; yet being a muscular function, not necessarily 
connected either with mind or ear, we often perceve it, in those of 
a humble class. The state of mere animal instinct in which Actors 
have chosen to keep themselves, with regard to the uses of the 
voice, must convince usj they can have no systematic purpose, 
nor indeed any successful means for improving it. There is, how- 
ever, one circumstance in theatrical speech, that may undesign- 
edly produce in time, the full volume of the sub-sonorous orotund. 
I mean the practice of vociferating, seemingly required by the 
extent of the House, by the deaf taste of the audience, and by 
the poetical rant and bombast of what are called 'stock acting 
tragedies.' In addition, therefore, to the previously described 
means for acquiring the orotund, I shall, in a few words, point 
out another method derived from the vehement efforts of histrionic 
speech. 

Let the Reader make an expiration on the interjection hah, in 
the voice of whisper, with a widely extended mouth, and with a 
duration sufficient to press all the air from the lungs. Then let 
the whisper in this process be changed to vocality. This vocality, 
like that of gaping, will have the hoarse fulness and sub-sonorous 
volume of the orotund. The forcible exertion of this kind of 
voice constitutes Vociferation; for vociferation is the utmost 
effort of the natural voice, as the shriek or yell is of the falsette. 
Actors who affect the first rank in their art, are often by energy 
of passion urged to a degree of force, which produces the mixture 
of vocality and aspiration, in the interjection hah; and it will be 
shown in a future section, that the junction of a certain degree of 
aspiration with the tonic elements, is one of the means of earnest 
and forcible expression. The frequent occurrence of exaggerated 
passion and language in the drama, joined to the effort required 



OF THE VOICE. 155 

by the dimensions of a Theater, induces the habit of interjective 
expiration, which exerted through a wide extension of the mouth, 
leads the speaker to the attainment of the orotund, if his voice 
is capable of it. 

It must not be supposed that the full, hollow, and sub-sonorous 
orotund is always of the same purity. It varies in its degrees of 
force and fulness; and is sometimes slightly infected with aspi- 
ration, nasality, vocal murmur, or guttural harshness. 

If it should be askedj what advantage is gained by the care 
and labor here enjoined, for acquiring this improved condition of 
the speaking voice, it may be answeredj 

First. The mere sound is more tunable than that of the com- 
mon voice. Compared with the full and sub-sonorous character 
of a well-timed orotund, some voices have as little even of a hint 
of music in them, as the noise of a hammer on a block. This 
vocality, so impressive with its dignity of volume, often catches 
the ear and approbation of those who are quite insensible to the 
agency of pause, quantity, and intonation. I have known the 
single influence of an orotund voice give extensive fame to an 
actor, who in more essential points of good reading, was even be- 
low mediocrity. It is this vocality which dignifies the other 
excelencies of speech. In the voice of women it is most obvious 
and delightful. I refer to their speech only, not to the lower 
notes of their contralto in song. 

Second. The orotund is fuler in volume, and purer in vocality 
than the common voice; and as the latter gives a delicate atten- 
uation to the vanishing movement, the former with no less appro- 
priate effect, displays the stronger body of the radical. 

Third. Its pure and impressive vocality gives distinctness to 
pronunciation ; and when completely formed is free from the dul- 
ness created by nasality or aspiration; the characteristic offen- 
siveness of which is shown by their union in Snoring. 

Fourth. It exerts a greater degree of articulative and expres- 
sive power than the common voice. In this respect it has the 
character of things perfect in their kind. The ear seems filled 
with its volume, and asks for no more. There is too, on the part 
of the speaker himself, that satisfaction which accompanies the 
full energizing of a function; for here Nature herself seems to 



1«3G THE MECHANISM 

acknowledge; the voice has done its whole duty. Those who by 
cultivation of the singing-voice, have brought its tone to the 
utmost extent of fulness and purity, will admit the importance of 
practice and perseverance, in preparing the voice for the purposes 
of speech. Compared with the power and facility of an endowed 
and high-taught Vocalist, common instinctive eiforts in song seem 
to be not much removed from the imbecility of paralysis. 

Fifth. The orotund, from the discipline of cultivation, is more 
under command than the common voice; and is consequently 
more efficient and precise in the production of long quantity; in 
varying the degrees of force; in executing the tremulous scale; 
and in fulfiling all the other purposes of expressive intonation. 

Sixth. It is the only kind of voice appropriate to the master- 
style of epic and dramatic reading. Through it alone, the actor 
consummates an outward sign of the grandeur and energy of his 
thought and passion. Employed in what will presently be de- 
scribed as the Diatonic Melody, the impressive authority and 
dignified elegance of this voice, excede as measurably the meaner 
sounds of ordinary discourse, as the superlative pictures of the 
poet, and the broad wisdom of the sage, respectively transcend 
the poor originals of life and all their wretched policies. It is 
the only voice capable of fulfiling the solemnity of the Church- 
service, and the majesty of Shakespeare and Milton. 

Finally, as the orotund does not destroy the ability to use the 
common voice, it may be perceved how their contrasted employ- 
ment may add the resource of vocal light and shade, if we may 
so speak, to the means of oratorical coloring and design. 

The Mechanism of the Tremulous movement does not appear 
to be connected with the visible parts of the fauces; although 
there is a gurgling noise somewhat resembling it, produced by a 
vibration of the uvula, when brought into contact with the base 
of the tongue, in the expiration of the elements e-ve and e-rr. I 
leave it for future observers to ascertain; whether the tremulous 
rise and fall may not be refered to the organic cause of the varia- 
tions of pitch, in the natural and falsette voices. 

I have thus endeavored to set-forth what we do not know of the 
mechanism of speech. The subject of the voice is divided into 
two branches. Anatomy and Physiology. The first embraces a 



OF THE VOICE. 157 

description of the vocal organs. The second, a history of the 
functions performed by that organization. The anatomical struct- 
ure is recorded to the utmost visible and microscopic minuteness. 
The history of those audible functions which it is the design of 
this Work to developej and which, by the strictest meaning of the 
term, constitute the vocal physiology^ has in a great measure been 
disregarded, under a belief that these functions are altogether 
beyond the power of analytic perception. 

In disregarding the physiological analysis of vocality, force, 
and pitch of vocal sound, writers have endeavored to ascertain 
only what parts of the organization produce these several phe- 
nomena; and seem to have almost restricted the name of physi- 
ology to their vain and contradictory notions about these mechan- 
ical causations. Hence in the Elocutional physiology, if we may 
so call it, of the organs of speech, there is little of that rooted 
opinion, which in most cultivated sciences contends with an origi- 
nal inquirer, in every attempt to sacrifice ignorance and error to 
the cause of truth. Whereas the subject of mechanical causation, 
like all other matters of theory, has become doctrinal and di- 
vided ; and the inquirer has here not only to strive at reaching the 
secrecy of nature, but harder still, has to encounter the obstinacy 
of sectaries whose opinions have grown into pride, by their un- 
yielding contentions with each other. 

When the observative Reader has finished this volume, he will 
perceve that in part of this fifth section, and occasionally else- 
where, I was unavoidably occupied with the contestable opinions 
of men; but generally, with an endeavor to extend our views of 
the human voice, by consulting and recording the Oracular voice 
of Nature : a contrast that may well induce a lover of truth and 
brevity to exclaimj Happy is he, who desiring to enlarge the 
circle of knowledge, comes to a subject which the fictional finger 
of the school has never touched. 






158 THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 

SECTION VI. 

Of the Expression of Speech. 

Is the preceding sections we have explained the terms of the 
five modes of speech, with many of their forms and varieties; 
have described these modes and forms, as they appear in the 
radical and vanish, the alphabetic elements, and in the construc- 
tion of sylables; and far as accurately ascertained, have shown 
how the Organs of the Voice mechanically produce the phe- 
nomena of these modes and forms. These explanations and de- 
scriptions give a preparatory view of the functions of speech; 
and embrace all the generalities required by an inteligent and 
attentive Reader, in pursuing the subsequent details of this 
Work. 

Speech is employed to declare the States and Purposes of the 
mind. These are first known to us as Perceptions; and Per- 
ceptions may be divided into Thoughts, and Passions. According 
to this view, the design of speech is to declare our thoughts and 
passions. If we acknowledge this distinction in the states of mindj 
the voice must, by a like ordination, have distinct means or signs 
for declaring them. It is therefore of great importance to ascer- 
tain, what are the different means in the voice, for declaring in 
one case, the plain and simple condition of thought; and in the 
other, the excited mental condition of passion : for these will form 
the leading divisions of our present subject. 

Schoolmen make a vague distinction between thoughts and 
passions, and common usage has adopted their language. This 
is not a place for controversy; nor is it necessary to inquire 
deliberately, whether the above distinction refers to the essential 
character of the states of mind, or to their degrees. Some may 
be disposed to consider thought and passion as varied degrees 
only, of intensity of perceptions; since the function, noted as 
a plain unexcited thought in one, has in another, from its urgency, 
and without apparent specific difference, the active power of a 



THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 159 

passion; and in the same person at different times, like circum- 
stances produce, according to the varied susceptibility of excite- 
ment, the mental condition of either a passion or a thought. 
Perhaps it might not be difficult to show, that these states of the 
mind have many points in common; and that no definite line of 
demarkation can be drawn between them. But however insepa- 
rably involved in their mingling affinity^ the states of mind in 
thought, and in passion, are in their more remote relationships, 
either in kind or degree distinguishably different. 

Corresponding to this difference between thought and passion, 
the vocal means for declaring their extreme distinctions are, as 
we shall learn hereafter, no less strongly marked : yet their assim- 
ilating forms prevent a strict line of separation between them. In 
uttering, as a polite or merely thoughtful request, the phrasej 
give me that book, we use quite a different intonation and force, 
from that employed on the same words, as a passionate and rude 
imperative. Gradually add earnestness to the request, and gradu- 
ally moderate the command: and as the states of mind become 
identical, so will the voices, if properly representing those changes. 
Notwithstanding this manifest difference of meaning in the terms 
Thought and Passionj we have not, in our ignorance of the ana- 
lytic history of speech, perceved the want of a discriminative 
nomenclature, and consequently have no brief corresponding 
terms, for the vocal signs that severally represent them. Books 
on elocution have indeed vaguely employed the word Expression, 
to signify the voice of passion. But they furnish us with no 
single or appropriate term for the plain declaration of simple or 
passionless thought; which as we procede in our history, will be 
essentially required. 

Until physical science shall direct a penetrating and diffusive 
light upon the reciprocal influence between the mind and the 
voice, all will be desultory and confused. Thus the term Ex- 
pression, though sufficient for the indefinite elocution of the 
Orator and the Player-* is not restrictive; for it is as common 
to speak of the expression of an unexcited thought, or meaning 
in language, as of the expression of its passion. This want of 
precise distinction between the states of thought and passion, 



160 THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 

has been one cause why we have no precise terms for vocal signs 
to denote this distinction. 

Metaphysics, which has been in a great measure, the art of 
searching for the useless, and seeming to find the impossible re- 
lationships of things^ has unfortunately been suffered, for it is a 
disaster, to spread its 'insane root,' within and throughout the 
subject of the mind; and has been so blindly groping in its ab- 
surd attempt to distinguish between Matter and Spirit? that it 
has not regarded the manifest difference between the mental states 
of thought and passion, and consequently between the vocal signs 
which denote the difference. 

The Natural Science of speech requires the convenience and 
precision of a proper nomenclature, for the assignable distinctions 
of both the mind and the voice. New terms for these distinctions 
might be taken from other languages ; yet as the plain-English 
spoken facts of this volume may to the calm philosopher, who 
should 'wonder at nothing,' be so repulsively strange^ I am not 
disposed to strengthen the repulsion if avoidable, by adding the 
further strangeness, of words adopted from a classic or a foreign 
tongue. Our divisions will therefore be marked by familiar Eng- 
lish words, with prefixed or terminative additions. 

Most of the inquiries into the subject of the human mind have 
produced little else than partizan contention in the schools^ and 
delusive self-conceit, about their own faculties, among the vulgar. 
This has kept the nomenclature of the conditions and uses of the 
mind, so indefinite or erroneous, as to confound every attempt, by 
strict observation, severally to arrange under its vague and vari- 
able terms, the directly related subjects of the mind and the 
voice. Should I then fail, or not do my best in this purpose, the 
Reader, if not able to do his better best, may perhaps acknowl- 
edge the difficulty of the task. The states of mind, indefinitely 
called 'idea, perception, thought, sentiment, emotion, feeling, and 
passionj' whatever their different characters or degrees, having 
never been reduced to order, and to clear definition^ we will until 
a time of more accurate observation, endeavor to embrace the 
imperfect design of those terms, within a nomenclature of greater 
compass and precision. 



THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 161 

On a broad survey of these 'ideas, perceptions, thoughts, sen- 
timents, and passions,' we perceve in their conditions and agencies, 
the distinctions of a Plain and Quiet State of Mind; a state of 
Excitement; and a state Between these extremes. We may then 
call the first of these states, that of Thought ; the middle state, 
Inter-thought; the third, Passion: and for the relationships of 
these states to Language, make a corresponding division of the 
vocal signs, ordained by Nature severally to represent them. In 
the detail of this arrangement, it may be necessary to refer to 
some of the topics of future sections, yet we shall use no term, 
without a present or previous explanation. 

The First state or condition of the mind is its simple percep- 
tion of things, their actions, and other relationships^ with no 
reference to the exciting interests of human life. We apply to 
both this state of plain thought, and to the vocal sign that de- 
notes it, the term Thoughtive. Its vocal sign consists in the sim- 
ple rise and fall and shorter wave of the interval of the second; 
of an unobtrusive vocality ; with a moderate degree of Force; and 
short sylabic Time or Quantity. 

The Second, or intermediate condition has that relation to 
human life, which excites moderately self-interesting reflections 
in the mindj and embraces dignity, pathos, awe, serious admira- 
tion, reverence, and other states congenial in character and de- 
gree with these. We call this condition of the mind, and its vocal 
signs, the Inter-tTiouglitive, but preferably the Admirative or 
Reverentive. , Its signs are variously the interval of the semitone, 
the second, occasionally the third and fifth, with their waves; an 
extended time; a full orotund vocality; with a moderate but dig- 
nified force. 

The Third condition has a more immediate and vivid reference 
to human life, its reflective interests, and actions, throughout the 
impressive forms, degrees, and varieties of passion. We call this 
state of mind, and the signs which denote it, the Passionative. 
Its signs are the semitone, and wider rising and falling intervals, 
with their waves; either a short, or an extended time; a striking 
and varied vocality ; abruptness ; with high degrees, and impres- 
sive forms of force. 



162 THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 

I have in these divisions, used the terms Inter-thought, and 
Inter-thoughtive, briefly to denote, the intermediate condition 
between thought and passion; but as these words are at first 
startling, and are not altogether exact, I will generally designate 
the forms of this division of the mental state and its vocal signs, 
as Admirative, or Reverentive, and use the term Inter-thought, 
merely for brevity of phrase. 

These terms for the three divisions, do not as it appears, be- 
long to our language; and conveying no other meaning than here 
ascribed to them, cannot be confounded or mistaken: and their 
final particle including the idea of agency, properly designates 
the influence of the state of mind on the vocal sign, and that of 
the vocal sign on the ear. Thus, the thoughtive state produces 
the thoughtive signj and the thoughtive sign produces a thoughtive 
state of mind in the hearer. The case is similar, in the influence 
of the inter-thoughtive and the passionative states respectively 
on their vocal signs j and of their signs, on the hearer. The effect 
of the signs of the inter-thoughtive^ or as I would call it, the 
admirative or the reverentivej and of the passionative divisions, 
constitutes, in its varieties and degrees, what we have named, at 
the head of this section, the Expression of Speech. 

We have thus far considered only the single or individual sign, 
and the single or momentary state of mind that directs it. This 
state of mind may be continued, and with its sign, extended 
throughout the current of discourse. The continuation of the 
same state of mind and of its appropriate vocal sign forms a 
Current manner or Style. Of this we make three divisions. 
Each consists of a succession of its own peculiar constituents of 
mental state, and vocal sign; and may be severally called, the 
Thoughtive, Inter-thoughtive, and Passionative Style of reading 
and speech. The motive for taking a separate view of the in- 
dividual instance of the state of mind, and of its vocal signj 
and of their continued stylej and for applying the same nomen- 
clature in each casej is, that we shall sometimes refer separately 
to a single state of mind, and its sighj and sometimes to a con- 
tinued current style: and as the style is only a continuation of 
this single state and sign, it is proper to apply the same terms to 
identical constituents in the two cases. 



THE EXPEESSION OF SPEECH. 163 

In here dividing the subject of the states of mind from their 
vocal signs; and in denoting the individuality of these states and 
their signs, as well as their succession in a current style, by the 
same termsj we offer a simple, and for present practical purposes, 
a sufficient outline of a classification of the relationships between 
the mind and the voice. And were we describing Nature, to those 
only who can throw-aside the habit of an old, limited, and dis- 
tracting nomenclature, for one more recent and precise, we would 
not at this time, encumber her simplicity. But the attempts of 
the metaphysical schools to discriminate the states of the mind, 
and the vocal signs, are in greater part, so visionary, variable, 
indefinite, and erroneous^ and their nomenclature, both of state 
and of sign, so vague and superficial^ that I shall endeavor to 
give their dim gropings after both mind and voice, more meaning 
and precision, by connecting some of their terms for state and 
sign, as synonyms with the threefold analytic divisions here de- 
scribed. 

The term Narrative, is in common language, but with no refer- 
ence to our proposed distinctions-; employed for the plain state- 
ment, declaration, or affirmation of a fact, and of its causes and 
consequences; or for describing the course of an event. These 
purposes not requiring force, or other passionative expression, 
denote, the state of mind, we call thoughtive; and thus direct 
the thoughtive vocal sign. The narrative then, together with the 
simply declarative, affirmative, descriptive, inexpressive, and un- 
impassioned may all be classed with our thoughtive division, both 
as individual state and signj and as a continued style. That is, 
there may be, an individual narrative state of mind, and an indi- 
vidual narrative signj and a continued narrative state of mind, 
and a continued narrative signj and in like manner of the other 
terms. 

Several terms in common language, indefinitely signifying 
states of mind, might when slightly altered, be classed with 
our admirative and reverentive. These are the sentimental, if 
this word has a meaning, the gravely pathetic, the dignified, the 
respectful, the supplicative, and the penitential; for these have 
conventional meanings, which seem to correspond in character 



164 THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. " 

and degree, to the state of mind we have ascribed to our second 
division ; and which may if required, be used synonymously with 
its term, Inter-thoughtive, in both its individual designation and 
its current style: making a dignitive state and sign, and a cogni- 
tive continued style; and in like manner of the other terms. For 
synonymous classification with the Passionative division, common 
language furnishes the words, impassioned, expressive, the earn- 
estly interrogative, exclamatory, derisive, contemptuous, and 
others of the same vehement family; together with the numer- 
ous terms for the passions. All these severally employ the im- 
pressive forms of vocality, time, force, abruptness, and intonation. 
The terms Rhetorical and Declamatory are sometimes used with 
reference to an expressive state of mind, and to energy of voice. 
If they were classed with our passionative division, it might per- 
haps render their meaning less indefinite. 

The passionative states of mind, as just remarked, are also 
designated by the conventional terms for human passion of every 
kind. Some of these will in a future section, 'on the signs of 
thought and passion,' be refered to their appropriate modes and 
forms, among the named and measurable constituents of Ex- 
pressive speech. 

I have not refered those two common terms for an indefinite 
state of minclj Emotion and Feelingj to a place in our arrange- 
ment, since the former is not assignable by me at least, to either 
of the expressive divisions ; nor to the thoughtive ; and the latter 
will be hereafter applied to the state of mind connected with the 
vocal expression of song. With this outline of the relations be- 
tween mind and language, we leave future observation, to class 
under our threefold division, if approved or corrected, whatever 
common terms, we may have overlooked^ but which broader and 
more accurate investigation of the states of mind and of the Voice, 
may assign to their proper places. 

From this view we percevej the full and effective philosophy 
of elocution embraces two leading considerations. The first, that 
every individual vocal sign may convey a single state of thought, 
inter-thought, or passion. The second, that the several states of 
mind, with their signs, when successively continued, form a cur- 



THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 165 

rent style of discourse j or what will be described more particularly, 
in a future section, as the Drift of the voice. 

With all our definitions and divisions, it will be perceved in the 
course of this Work, how difficult it is to draw a definite line of 
separation between the thoughtive, the reverentive, and the pas- 
sionative states of mindj and between the signs which severally 
represent them; and how the mental as well as the vocal dif- 
ferences pass, by indistinguishable shades, into each other. 

It is not therefore to be supposed^ these several drifts of 
Thought, Inter-thought, and Passion, with their respective signs,"* 
are used separately, and kept distinct from each other ; by which 
the ear might become familiar with their several peculiar char- 
acters^ and thus perceve their details, through a comparative 
observation of the general contrasts, and particular differences 
between their various styles. Were this the case, the marked 
vocal effect of the different drifts, each with its peculiar character 
both in reading and speechj would have early drawn philosophic, 
if not vulgar attention to the striking differences between their 
general currents^ then to the differences of the individual signs 
that constitute the different currentsj and finally to a full analysis 
of speech. 

Yet even in the natural ordination of the voice, and more con- 
spicuously in its corruptions, the course of a drift is not strictly 
continuous and identical with itself; other individual states of 
mind, with their vocal signs, and other drifts being occasionally 
and variously interspersed in all oratorical and common discourse; 
and this by confounding irresolute observation, has been a princi- 
pal cause why the particulars of the true relationships between 
mind and the voice were not long ago clearly perceved and 
named. We have in the course of what our vain-glorious, yet 
disputable assumption calls Civilization, so disorderly mixed up 
our thoughts with our passions, and our passions with each other, 
that Nature, disturbed perhaps by human error, in the design and 
fulfilment of her final causesj has to the transient observer, pre- 
sented an apparent confusion, in the connection between the 
mind and the voice. And yet true in part to the law of adapting 
speech to thought and passion, she still shows occasional and 



166 THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 

striking examples of her ordinations ; which should have enabled 
others, and which have directed the Author, to make, however 
imperfectly, the divisions, and nomenclature here proposed. 

Let us under another view, recapitulate our account of the 
character, applications, and transitions of the different vocal cur- 
rents of discourse. 

When one or more sentences describe an object or a piece of 
machinery, or narrate the course of an event, it forms the purely 
Thoughtive, narrative, simply affirmative, or descriptive style. 
•'A current of similar extent, on some dignified, plaintive, rever- 
ential, or solemn declaration, in the Church Service^ in epic, 
dramatic, and other elevated yet calmly expressive composition^ 
would be a pure instance of the inter-thoughtive, or reverentive 
and admirativej and the voice of vehement appeals in the Forum, 
of an excited scene on the Stage, of the furious liberty of temper 
at a universal-suffrage Election, and of the uproar of a Volunteer 
Fireman's Law-permitted fight, would give both refined and vulgar 
examples of the passionative. These several styles or drifts, gen- 
erally occur only in short sections of various extent, in the greater 
part of discourse. We may therefore have a drift of clauses, 
members, and whole sentences; but rarely is half a page, and 
never a chapter, to be found exclusively in one continuous style. 

For an ilustration of the manner of transition from one drift to 
another, through the intermingled use of their several constitu- 
entsj suppose the thoughtive or narrative with its simple second 
or tone, to have here and there, a word distinguished from the 
rest, by a more impressive interval, an extended time on the wave 
of the second, the full quality of the orotund, if available^ and 
you pass to the admirative and reverentive. Again, suppose the 
semitone and wider intervals, various waves, added force, pro- 
longed time, peculiar quality, and abruptness] to be brought into 
the reverentive, or to distinguish all its emphatic words; and you 
rise to the highest forms of expression in the passionative style 
or drift. 

As the art of elocution is essentially founded on the state of 
the mind and its indication by the voices the necessity of frequent 
reference to these agencies, requiring the frequent use of their 



THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 167 

termsj I shall, to avoid too near a repetition of them, variously 
employ "with the same meaning, the termsj state of mind; mental 
and intelectual state or condition; perhaps the new word Men- 
tivity, if allowed; and when admissible, the word, state, alone. 
For the indication by the voice, I shall variously employ the 
termsj vocal, verbal, thoughtive, and expressive sign; and when 
admissible the word, sign, alone. 

From the confused and distracted attempts, throughout scho- 
lastic ages, to make something out of the almost nothing of com- 
mon knowledge on the voicej and from those fruitless attempts 
having produced a nearly universal opinion, that a discriminative 
perception of the ' tones' of the voice is unattainable^ I have 
soley by means of a different method of inquiry, been enabled to 
offer many important facts, and to propose for them a classifica- 
tion and nomenclature, which may lead Elocutionists to listen 
and hear for themselves; and by this more extended observa- 
tion, to propose divisions and terms, more comprehensive and 
exact. Nature is always at work among us ; and though from 
indolence we may not choose to scrutinize her ordinations, and 
may not through fear of encountering a frowning difficulty, be 
willing to look her labors in the facej still the numberless unsuc- 
cessful endeavors to name, without perceving, the wise adaptation 
of the various conditions of the mind to the various expressive 
modes of the voicej seem instinctively to show that her purposes, 
if even mistaken or perverted, have not been entirely lost sight-of 
nor forgotten. I have therefore from the indefinite and groping 
nomenclature of the careless world, and of its equally careless 
metaphysicians, endeavored to gather what seemed to me might 
be taken, as approximate vulgar-synonyms to the terms of our 
views on the subject of the relationships between the mind and 
the voice. 

I here propose to assist the Reader's attention and memory, 
by reducing the several preceding divisions of the individual 
states and signs of the current styles of Expression, to the fol- 
lowing^ 



108 



THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 



TABULAR VIEW. 



Condition 

or 

States of 

mind. 

Thoughtive 

or 

Unexcited 

state. 

Inter-though- 

tive or 

Admirative 

and 

Reverentive 

state. 

Passionative 

or 
Excited state. 


Vocal Signs 

of 
those States. 

r The simple rise and fall 
and shorter wave of the 
interval of the second ; 
an unobtrusive vocality; a -j 
moderate degree of force; 
and a short sylabic quan- 

L <%■ 

The semitone, the second, 
occasionally the third and 
fifth with their waves; an 
extended time; a full oro- 
tund vocality ; and a mod- 
erate but dignified force. 

The semitone, and wider 
rising and falling intervals, 
with their waves ; either a 
short or extended time; a 
striking and varied vocal- 
ity; abruptness; with high 
degrees and expressive 
_ forms of force. 


Synonyms of old conven- 
tional terms vaguely 
applied to state, and 
style, and sign. 

Narrative, simply declara- 
tory or affirmative ; descrip- 
tive; dispassionate; inexpres- 
sive ; unimpassioned ; emo- 
tionless ; plain and even tone 
of voice. 

Sentimental; gravely pa- 
thetic; reverential; dignified; 
respectful; supplicative; pen- 
itential; and expressive of 
awe and admiration. 

Impassioned ; expressive ; 
earnestly interrogative ; de- 
clamatory; rhetorical; con- 
temptuous; derisive; and the 
conventional terms for every 
vehement passion. 



I shall not indeed be always able to entirely satisfy myself, 
in the use of every term of the preceding divisions with their 
synonyms. But having given a new and far-reaching analysisj 
a new arrangement and nomenclature became necessary; and 
imperfect as it may be, the leading lines of the methodic survey 
will afford others, an example at least of a failure ; which by the 
negative assistance of a rejected error, may help to remove some 
of the difficulty that might otherwise delay success. Let me 
however, caution my Readers, not to rely so implicitly on the sus- 
picions of an author against himself, as hastily to confirm his 
concessive and due distrust, of what wiser and assuring time may 
at length show to be worthy of adoption. 

Of all this essay, the arrangement I have been obliged to offer 
on the subject of expression, has delayed if not perplexed me the 



THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 169 

most, and satisfied me least: since it aims to divide for the pur- 
pose of instruction, what Nature in her purposed agency, seems 
to have joined by the chain, or as we may here call it, the con- 
crete connection of all her creative transitions. In other parts 
of this Work, I had, where happily no language existed, to make 
one for untold phenomena: in this, to encounter a desperate con- 
fusion in the language of the scholastic world, formed before it 
knew distinctly what it had to name. 

The classifications of science were instituted in part, to assist 
the working powers of the intelect; yet in fulfiling the purpose 
of communicating and preserving knowledge, they unfortunately 
sometimes produce the undesigned hindrance of its alteration or 
advancement, by creating a belief of its systematic completion. 
Though the numberless revolutions in scientific arrangement are 
full of admonitions^ we forget how often the fictitious affinities, 
and the distinctions of system have on the one hand, presump- 
tuously united the intended divisions of Nature, and on the other, 
broken the beautiful connection of her circle of truth. 

In submission to the necessities of instruction, I have attempted, 
by an arrangement, however imperfect, to distinguish the several 
states of mindj and the several vocal signs that represent them ; 
with the hope that future inquiry may determine their real re- 
lationships, by a full and accurate history of the Mind, and of 
the Voice. For we may as well suppose, all those works of use- 
fulness are already accomplished, which are foretold by the just 
and extended powers of human observation, and the calculated 
promises of Science^ as that those Delightful Arts, which em- 
ploy while they regulate the refined purposes of perception, have 
yet disclosed their coming grandeurs and graces, prefigured, under 
the future extension of knowledge and precept, in the Prophetic 
Book of Taste. Let us leave the seventh day of rest, to the 
holiday rejoicing of physicians, lawyers, priests, and politicians, 
who look upon their disastrous creations, and cunning schemes 
for human misery, and pronounce them original, and finished, 
and good. Let them build strongly around the vaunted perfec- 
tion of their Theories, Codes, Councils, and Constitutions. Let 
them guard the ark of a forefather's wisdom, and proclaim its 
unalterable holiness to the people, for the safety, honor and 
12 



170 THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 

emolument of the keeper. The great Contributions to Knowl- 
edge, like the great and progressive Creations of Nature herself, 
have never yet found and perhaps never will find, their day of 
rest; and the renowned forefathers of many a work of usefulness 
as well as glory are, by the like merit or ambition which raised 
their own temporary greatness, transmuted to corrigible children, 
in the eye of the advancing labor of a later age. 

It has been alleged of the expression of speech, that a dis- 
crimination of its concealed and delicate agency, is beyond the 
scrutiny of the human ear. If the term human ear is sarcastically 
used for that fruitlessly busy and slavish organ, which has so long 
listened for the clear voice of nature, amid the conflicting tumult 
of opinion and authority, we must admit and regret the truth of 
the assertion. But it is not true of a keen, industrious, and in- 
dependent exercise of the senses; nor can it be affirmed without 
profanity, of that supreme power of observation, deputed among 
the final causes of creation, for the effective gathering of truth, 
and the progressive improvement of mankind. 

Our conquests in knowledge must be the joint achievement of 
cautious, but free-minded and industrious Numbers, and of de- 
liberate, patient, and unwasted Time. Leaving then to populous 
futurity the gradual completion of the Work, I looked around 
for present assistance: and having, with more need than hope, 
yet with an untold purpose, consulted the views of others on the 
analytic means for delineating the voice of expression-; I generally 
receved some query like this: Is it possible to recognize and 
measure all those delicate variations of sound, that have passed 
so long without detection, and that seem scarcely more amenable 
to sense than the atoms of air on which they are made? It is 
possible to do all this: and if we cannot 'Find the way' for a 
victorious development of nature, 'let usj' with the maxim, and 
in the contriving thought, and resolution of the great Cartha- 
genian Captain 3 'let us Make one.' 

It will not be denied, that vocality, force, time, and intonation, 
under all their forms, constituting the expression of speech, may 
be distinctly heard; nor will it be maintained^ there is the least 
liability, even in the common ear, to misapprehend, or to con- 
found the varied states of mind, they respectively convey. No: 



THE EXPRESSION OF SPEECH. 171 

still it is objected, that the peculiar kind, the measurable degree, 
and the commingling variety of those forms cannot be distin- 
guished. But as the vocal movements thus distinctly audible, 
include all these conditions; and the states and purposes of the 
mind are so readily recognized under all their kinds, degrees, and 
combinations, I leave it to those who make the objection, to ask 
themselvesj if a full and clear discrimination of the vocal signs is 
not implied in that recognition. In truth, even the most delicate 
voices of thought and expression, though supposed to be imper- 
ceptible, are always distinctly heard; and if the ready compre- 
hension of their mental purpose may decide the question, are 
always recognized and measured, in the strictest meaning of the 
words: but tliey have never been analytically perceved, and defi- 
nitely named. For even those who have pretended to observe, 
and to teach on the subject of the voice have as yet, no language 
for the discriminations, absolutely necessary in the explanation 
of speech, and every day instinctively made, even by the popu- 
lar ear. I propose to give a precise history of the vocal means 
for representing the various states of thought and of passion; to 
point out their modes, forms, and varieties, and to assign a defi- 
nite nomenclature to them. 

There is perhaps no vain confidence, in supposing the Reader 
to be now well acquainted with the character of the radical and 
vanishing movement. This wide-reaching function of the voice, 
has been represented under its different forms, in speech and 
song. We have traced it in the literal elements, and seen its 
influence in directing the phenomena of sylables. I have yet to 
show its instrumentality in the various and delicate uses of ex- 
pression: and if I shall be able thereby to unfold the principles 
of this marvelous mystery of Nature, it will be, by developing 
some of the particulars of that greater marvel of agency, in 
which a wise simplicity of means is employed throughout her 
profuse and never-wasteful creations. 

Five general divisions of the modes of vocal sound were made 
in the first section of this essay. In summary repetition, they 
arej Vocality, or kind of voice ; Time, or the measure of its dura- 
tion ; Force, or the variations of strength and weakness ; Abrupt- 
ness, or an explosive utterance; and Pitch, or the variations of 



172 THE PITCH 

acuteness and gravity. It will be shown, that each of these gen- 
eral modes is inclusive of many forms and varieties, with their 
different degrees; and that the now measurably thoughtive and 
passionative signs of speech, consist of the unmysterious use of 
the different forms and varieties of these modes, and of their 
different combinations with each other. 



SECTION VII. 

Of the Pitch of the Voice. 

The mode of the voice we have now T to consider, although not 
more essential than the others, in the constituency of speech, has 
nevertheless, from our ignorance of its particular forms and uses, 
been a subject of wonder; and from our childish love of wonder 
has become especially a subject of interesting inquiry. To this 
mode of Pitch belong the many forms and varieties of Intona- 
tion, or as they have been called in the schools of Rhetoric and 
Prosody, by a sort of prescriptive determination, the 'undiscover- 
able or unassignable Tones or accents of the voice.' 

The Greeks in their fondness for definition and division, were 
always disposed to go to the root of whatever knowledge they be- 
leved to have a root, and at the same time to be worthy of in- 
quiry. They seem therefore, as we might infer from their want 
of thoughtful curiosity^ setting aside their neglect of observation^ 
to have considered a full analysis of speech, as impracticable, or 
as useless. Either from these or other causes, the subject so 
feebly attracted their attention, that we might be disposed to think 
they derived their knowledge of the Sliding or concrete function, 
from Egypt or from some earlier Eastern source. Had it been 
discovered in the school of Pythagoras, or of Aristoxenus, it does 
not seem probable, that having found this key to the entrance of 
speech, they would have closed their hearing to what yet re- 
mained within the secrecy of nature: for, with a moderate degree 



OF THE VOICE. 173 

of curiosity, and a very little further observation of the simple 
concrete, they would have perceved that important subdivision of 
its structure, which we have described as the Radical and Vanish. 
However this may have been, neither the Greeks nor the Romans, 
apparently writing all they knew on the practical uses of the 
concrete accent; have left the least record of their opinions, 
their expectations, or their hopes on this subject, beyond the re- 
stricted limit of what they already knew. Yet indispensable as 
their discovery of the concrete was to the development of speech^ 
it is certain, they never added to the first and simple perception 
of this accentual slide, the smallest item of discriminative anal- 
ysis. The grammarians and commentators of the Alexandrian, 
Byzantine, and of subsequent schools, in discussing the subject of 
Greek accent, never extended their inquiry beyond the indefinite 
opinions of more ancient writers; while still later authors and 
teachers, with the determined faith and worship of classical schol- 
arship, beleving it tvas not done by the Greeks, because it really 
could not be done at all, have at last united in a general per- 
suasion, nay conviction, that any further discovery is impossible.* 

* As Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in his treatise 'On the Arrangement of 
Words,' has described more particularly, the character and practical uses of 
this accent or inflection, than any other Greek or Roman writer^ I shall, to 
show how limited and indefinite he is, give from his eleventh section, an ex- 
tract of all he says on this point; and shall insert in its course some explana- 
tory parenthetic remarks. 

'There is in oratorical discourse, a kind of tune, differing from that of Song, 
and (from the melody) of Music, only in degree, but not in kind or quality.' 
(We suppose he means that each employs intervals, but speech fewer, and those of less 
extent.) Immediately following-up the thought, he adds: 'There is in oratorical 
discourse, (and in music,) the like tune, that charms the ear; the like rythmus, 
that sustains the voice; (by the easy and graceful step of accent and quantity ;) the 
like variety that excites attention; and a like conformity of the whole to its 
purpose; the only difference being in the more and the less.' (In the number 
and extent of the intervals.) 'In oratorical discourse, the tune of the voice is re- 
stricted to the interval of a Fifth, or thereabouts. That is, it does not vary 
beyond three tones and a half, (these being the constituents of a Fifth,) either in an 
upward or downward direction. It is not to be supposed^ all the words of 
discourse are to be pronounced with the same accent; (inflection or concrete ;) 
for one is to have an acute, (rising,) another a grave (falling) accent, and 
another to have both, (the acute, joined in continuation ivith the grave, on the same 
sy table.) which is called the Circumflex.' Again, 'some words have the acute and 
the grave separately heard on different sylables. In disylables, there is no 
12* 



174 THE PITCH 

If then we have come to a describable perception of the con- 
stituents of the voice, let us learn to apply it. 

There is in our first section, a compendious view of the various 
forms of Pitch-; from the minute interval of the tremulous scale, 
to the octave, and beyond it, both in their upward and downward 
direction, together with their union into various forms of the 
wave. The greater part of these forms, like those of Vocality, 
Time, and Force, are employed in the expression of passion: 
and only a few for denoting simple thought. It is my design to 
show how these different forms of pitch are used for the several 
conditions and purposes of the mind. 

Man, notwithstanding the vain-glorious boast of his moral 
destiny, his religion, and his progressive civilization^ is now as 

middle place for applying an acute or grave. (A truism; for where there is no 
middle sylable there can be no middle accent.) In poly sylables of every kind, one 
of the sylables has the acute accent and the rest the grave.' ' The tune (say into- 
nation) of instruments and of song, is by no means limited as in speech, to this 
interval of the Fifth; but runs through the octave, Fifth, fourth, second, semi- 
tone, and according to some, the quarter tone.' 

Here is all that Dionysius says, on what we have been taught to think the 
profound knowledge and skill of the Greeks, in the philosophy and practice of 
this singing, or as we must now call it intonation, in speech. Nor is this to be 
taken as a mere summary of a fuler detail of knowledge; as the description 
contains more particulars than all the still-remaining rhetorical and musical 
writings of the ancients. But we find-; this only attempt to describe in detail, 
the melody of Grecian discourse, refers especially to that equally obscure, and 
disputed question^ the Accentual stress on sylables ; which certainly would not 
have been the case, could any of the numerous authors on this subject have had 
the least thought of a natural and comprehensive system of intonation. Indeed 
the account of the 'tune' of speech, by Dionysius, and by all the writers on 
rhetoric and music, seems to have been given only under some vague, and as we 
must now consider it, absurd notion of the acute, grave, and circumflex accent 
or inflection, being invariably applied to certain sylables^ both when pro- 
nounced alone, and in the current of discourse. AVe must therefore conclude^ 
from this belief of the Greeks, that all their sylabic accents were unchangeable^ 
it could never have entered their minds, to conceve a measurable and varied 
melody on successive sylables in speech. It would be wrong, to say^ Dionysius 
and his Grecians did not know their own opinions about the voice; but I must 
think, a strict observer in this case will say, they knew almost nothing of its 
reality. When a false perception is measured by itself, as happens in systems 
raised upon authority or conceit, all that is defective, distorted, or superfluous, 
comes out in perfect accord with its own rule, and blinds us to the error. It is 
a comparison with the rule of observation, which is found only in nature, that 
shows its deformity. 



OF THE VOICE. 175 

he has been, so generally, an Animal of fierce desires or passions, 
and so rarely a being of observation and reflection^ that we must 
not be surprised to find the greater number of his vocal signs, 
expressive of this ardent and predominating complexion of his 
character. Of all these upward and downward intervals of the 
scalej and all the waves in their direct and inverted, equal and 
unequal, single and double forms, there is but one which is not 
so employed. The simple rise and fall of the second, with its 
wave, when used for narrative, or for the plain statement of an 
unexcited thought; is the only intonated voice of man that does 
not spring from a passionative, or in some degree, an earnest con- 
dition of his mind. If we listen to his ignorance, his fears, super- 
stition, selfishness, arrogance, and injustice, we hear them under 
the forms of vivid vocal expression. We have the rising intervals 
of the third, fifth, and octave, for interrogatives, not of kindness, 
but of the fierce and persecuting Catechists of our life and faith; 
the downward third, fifth, and octave, for dogmatic, or tyrannical 
command; waves for the wonder of ignorance, the snarling of 
ill-humor, and the curling voice of contempt; the piercing hight 
of the falsette, for the scream of terror, the brawls of intemper- 
ance, and the shouts of the fanatic around the stake of the 
martyr; the semitone, for the peevish whine of discontent, and 
for the puling cant of the hypocrite and knave, who thus strive in 
vain to conceal their crafty designs. Then listen to him on those 
rare occasions, when he forgets himself and his passions, and has 
to utter a useful thought, or plainly to narrate^ and you will hear 
the second, the unobtrusive interval of the scale, in the admirable 
adaptation of Nature, made the simple sign of the dispassionate 
perception of her wisdom and truth. In short, man as an Indi- 
vidual, is in his forms of intonation, only the type of an eternal 
National Character; always prone to be vividly expressive of its 
vain-glory, and its emulative contempt of others; emphatic in 
self-will; vociferous in cupidity; and unjustly aggressive in its 
high-toned assumptions and imperative threats; with the piercing 
and prevailing cry of war, from within and from without, and 
only occasionally resting in the quiet intonation of moral and 
intelectual peace, with the Temple of the passionative vocal Janus 
shut. 



176 THE PITCH OF THE VOICE. 

Iii describing the radical and vanish, the simple interval of the 
inexpressive second was represented as an individual function, 
under its form of the equable concrete, on a single tonic element. 
We will consider in the next section, its application to successive 
sylables and words, in sentences of continuous speech. This con- 
tinuous style or drift of speech, formed by the simple thoughtive 
second, cannot from the character of that second, have what we 
call expression. It may therefore seem that continuous speech 
in the second, is designed to be a plain and colorless ground, for 
the contrasted display of the vivid voice of wider or passionative 
intervals, applied to occasional sylables in its course. And here 
the Reader may perceve one motive for our proposed distinction 
between the non-expressive, so to call it, and the expressive char- 
acter of the constituents of speech. 

It was formerly stated that the notes of the musical scale, under 
a certain order of succession, constitute the melody of song; and 
we now have to show in what manner a succession of concrete and 
discrete intervals in the speaking scale constitutes, under some 
peculiarity of structure, the Melody of Speech. 

Since I am about to represent that continuous melody of a 
second, or tone, as the ground upon which other intervals, and 
other constituents of speech are to be distributed, I must beg the 
student to give his deliberate attention to the subject. 

The succession of sylables in plain narrative or descriptive 
style, being through the intervals of a concrete and discrete tone, 
the melody is specified as Diatonic. 



••»>© © 



THE DIATONIC MELODY OF SPEECH. 177 



SECTION VIII. 

Of the Diatonic Melody of Speech; together with an inquiry, 

how far the Musical terms, Key and Modulation, 

are applicable to it. 

When the radical and vanishing movement was described, it 
was regarded individually or as applied to a single sylable. But 
as speech consists for the most part of a series of sylables, on 
each of which some form of the concrete instinctively occurs, it is 
necessary to consider the use and relationships of the radical 
and vanish, in its repeated application to the successive sylables 
of discourse. 

In plain Narrative or Description, or as we called it, Thoughtive 
discourse, the concrete of each sylable moves through the interval 
of a tone: and the successive concretes have a difference in the 
place of their pitch, relatively to each other. The application 
of these concretes to sylables, and the manner of varying the suc- 
cession of the places of their pitch, are exemplified on the follow- 
ing altered sentence of the Soothsayer, in Antony and Cleopatra, 

He reads in na ture's in fi nite 



book 


of 


se — 


— ere cy. 


rr 


-r 


«r 




- * * ~ 



If we suppose these lines and the included spaces to denote, 
each in proximate order, the difference of a tone, the succession 
of the several radicals with their issuing vanish, will show the 
places of the sylables of the superscribed words, in easy and un- 



ITS THE DIATONIC 

impassioned utterance. The perception of the effect of the con- 
cretes, and of their successions here exemplified, is called the 
Melody of Speech. 

A strict definition of the term, melody of speech, embraces 
the modes of pitch, force, and time, together with the pause; and 
regards likewise, intervals of the scale wider than above exem- 
plified, as well as intervals with a downward movement ; for all 
these are employed in the course of melody : yet as each of them 
consistently with their place and purpose, will be separately de- 
scribed hereafter, the present section is limited to the subject of 
pitch, when the progression is made exclusively through the rising 
concrete, and the rising and falling discrete interval of a tone; 
constituting the proper Diatonic Melody. 

The difference of pitch in this progression is at first to be 
perceved only by close observation, and by well-directed experi- 
ment. The pupil being able to intonate the scale, let him prac- 
tice the interval of a second on sylables, instead of on the simple 
tonic element; using a different syl able for each degree. Thus 
prepared, let him read the line of the preceding diagram, and try 
to recognize its intonation by slowly pronouncing, or rather hack- 
ing-out only the tonic element of each sylable; and giving those 
elements so short and abrupt a sound, that the reading being 
inarticulate may resemble the successions of a short cough. This 
method will make the variations of pitch more distinguishable, 
than when the other elements of the sylable are uttered together 
with the tonic. 

If this contrived utterance should not afford a clear perception, 
that the radical of a given sylable rises or falls a tone, from the 
place of the preceding one, let the pupil measure the questionable 
relation of the two sounds, by the rule of the scale, in the follow- 
ing manner. While he pronounces the two sylables as if he were 
reading, let him notice their pitch, as degrees of the scale. When 
the second is above the first, those two sylabic sounds will form 
the first two degrees of the rising scale; and continuing to rise 
by an alternate use of these sylables, he will complete that scale. 
When the second sylable is below the first, he will, on adding one 
or more sylables below the second, recognize the peculiar effect 
heard at the close of the scale, and on a fall of the voice at a 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 179 

period of discourse ; for this last effect is produced only by down- 
ward degrees. In the use of the means here proposed, the ear 
must with divided -attention, be directed, apparently at the same 
time to the progress of the equable concrete in the spoken melody, 
and to the succession of notes on the musical scale. 

To explain the system of melody, we must consider the succes- 
sion of concretes both in the course of a sentence, and at its close. 
These divisions may be respectively termed, the Current melody, 
and the melody of the Cadence. 

The current melody, or the succession of rise and fall, em- 
ployed on all the sylables of a sentence, except the last three, 
may be thus described. 

In simple thoughtive or narrative language, having no expres- 
sion, every sylable consists of the rising equable-concrete of a 
tone. The succession of these concretes has a variation of pitch, 
in which the radicals of any two never differ from each other more 
than the interval of a tone. 

To distinguish these two forms of melodial progression by short 
and referable terms, let us call the concrete rise of each sylablej 
the Concrete Pitch of melody ; and the place assumed by the 
radical of each concrete, above or below that of the preceding^ 
the Radical Pitch. In the foregoing notation, every one of the 
sylables has the concrete pitch of a tone, passing from line to 
space, or from space to line. The two, respectively composing 
the words nature, and booh of, differ a discrete tone from each 
other in their radical pitch; the radical pitch of the three sylables 
in infinite is the same. 

It will be shown, in its proper place, that the melody employed 
at some of the pauses in discourse requires a certain order of 
radical pitch, for justly and agreeably denoting both its meaning, 
and the different degrees of connection between its divisions. 
The parts within the divisions made by these pauses, have 
in general, no fixed succession: for the effect will be both proper 
and agreeable, if the melody of these parts is made by avoid- 
ing a continuation of the same radical pitch, or of an alter- 
nate rising and falling, or any other course of too remarkable 
a regularity. I offer three different notations of the same sen- 
tence; where the order of radical pitch in each reading is 



180 



THE DIATONIC 



varied; the above caution observed; and where the melody has 
a simple construction. 



He ne ver drinks, but, Ti mon's sil ver 



!"# — ~i — ^~ 



e£ 4 



B 



treads 


up on 


his 


lip. 


4 


Jf ^ 






• " 4 . 



He 


ne ver 


. drinks, 


but 


Ti mon's 


sil ver 


i $d- 


d d 


w 


4 


• 4 


^ 4 | 













treads up on his lip. 



jf _«£ _^0[_ 



He ne ver drinks, but Ti mon's sil ver 



4 4 



treads up on his lip. 



4^4—4 



Other arrangements of a proper and agreeable melody might 
be made for this sentence, on the principles of the varied suc- 
cession of radical pitch here exemplified. But, however varied 
the succession, its forms are all reducible to a limited number of 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 



181 



aggregates of the radical and vanish. These may be called the 
Phrases of Melody. They are shown in the notation of the fol- 
lowing lines; where the current is constructed in a manner not 
unsuitable to the simple narrative of the couplet; though here, as 
in some other instances of this essay, the melody is designed to 
ilustrate description, rather than to furnish examples of appro- 
priate elocution. 



That quar — tev 


most the 


skil — ful Greeks 

of 


an — 


— noy, 


d mf t/ 


<f 4 


4 * 


«r w 


f f 9 









Monotone. Falling Ditone. Rising Tritone. Rising Ditone. 



Where yon wild 


fig trees join 


the 


walls of 


Troy. 


* * 


tf *v< 


•r-r 


9 «• 


^ QF 


* ^ 



Falling Tritone. 



Alternation. 



Triad of the Cadence. 



When two or more sylables as in the above example, occur 
successively on the same place of radical pitch, it may be called 
the phrase of the Monotone. 

When the radical pitch is a tone above that of a preceding 
sylable, the phrase may be termed the Rising Ditone. 

When the radical pitch is a tone below that of a preceding 
sylable, the Falling Ditone. 

When the radicals of three sylables successively ascend a tone, 
the Rising Tritone. 

When three radicals successively descend a tone, the Falling 
Tritone. 

A train of three or more sylables, alternately a tone above and 
below each other, may be called an Alternation or the Alternate 
phrase. This distinction may seem to be unnecessary, as the 
alternate phrase is no more than a repeated use of the rising 
or the falling ditone; yet as it frequently occurs in speech, the 
term Alternation is for brevity here assigned to this particular 
phrase of melody. 



182 THE DIATONIC 

When three sylables successively descend in their radical pitch, 
at the close of a sentence, the phrase may be called the Cadence, 
or Triad of the Cadence ; which always has a falling vanish from 
its lowest radical. This is indeed, a falling tritone, but since the 
vanish of the lowest radical in the tritone of the cadence always 
descends, as will be shown presently, I have thought proper to 
contradistinguish and to specify it, as the Triad. 

It is to be remarked, that the names, and construction of the 
phrases of melody are the same, when the sylabic vanish has the 
downward course; the movements of the radical pitch, especially 
constituting the phrases, not being affected by the direction of 
the concrete pitch. 

I have not been able to resolve the melody of plain narrative, 
or thoughtive discourse, into more than these seven phrases. It 
would seem to be part of the ordination of the diatonic melody, 
not to admit a successive rise, or a fall of radical pitch to any 
great extent, by proximate degrees. It is here limited to the 
tritone, in both directions, because it appears to mej a further 
progression, though it may be occasionally used, is not agreeable. 
Whether the propriety of excluding successively rising and falling 
phrases of more than three concretes from diatonic or thoughtive 
speech, might be grounded on the perceptionj that the effect of 
such phrases somewhat resembles the effect of song, particularly 
in ascending the scale, whereby the semitone is traversed^ I leave 
to be determined by the observation of others. 

The three examples given in a preceding page, of the varied 
current melody of the same sentence^ and the statement that the 
phrases might be even further agreeably diversified, enable us to 
perceve^ how a speaker, under the direction of the science of 
melody, and with the habit of applying it, may readily avoid 
a monotonous continuation of the same radical pitch, and of 
formal returns of similar progressions. For notwithstanding the 
pitch is necessarily limited to the change afforded by the rise and 
the fall of a single tone, yet the different phrases of melody, and 
their practicable interchanges, furnish varied sequences of dis- 
similar passages, quite sufficient to prevent a recognition of iden- 
tity in the succession. The ear of a skilful speaker^ directed by 
the unerring habit which science, in time assumes, will be always 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 183 

on the watch, against the too frequent repetition of the same 
phrases: and the variety in their several forms, affords an easy 
exemption from this cause of monotony. The principles that 
govern the successions of pitch in the melody of speech, are similar 
to those for the arrangement of varied accent and quantity, in the 
rythmus of well adjusted prose. Excelence in each is the work of 
an educated, and discerning ear; and its habitual and almost in- 
voluntary perception is not less effective in one instancej by secur- 
ing the beauties of a varied intonation, than in the otherj by 
rejecting the prosodial measures of acknowledged verse. 

If the foregoing description of the successions of pitch in plain 
narrative is correct, we may, upon strict etymology, call the sum 
of those successions the Diatonic Melody of speech. For in the 
first place, the vanish of each separate concrete rises through the 
space of a tone; and in the second, the changes of radical pitch 
are made through the same intervals. We learn then, that the 
melody is made partly in the concrete, and partly in the discrete 
scale. The radical and vanish of each sylable is strictly concrete ; 
the transition from one sylable to another is strictly discrete. 
The reader may however, in the last diagram, merely notice, for 
it is a matter of no great practical importance^ that transitions of 
the different phrases, give a different extent to the distances be- 
tween any one radical, and the close of the preceding vanish. 
The constituents of the rising clitone and tritone have appar- 
ently no discrete interval between them; for where the vanish 
closes, the succeding radical begins. The monotone has a discrete 
second. The falling ditone and tritone, when the vanish rises, 
have two discrete tones, or the interval of a third. But these 
and similar differences produce, if we except the instance of the 
two discrete tones, no perceptible effect in the melody; for in the 
case of the rising ditone, where the voices of two sylables would 
seem to join-; the full abruptness of the radical, makes a plain dis- 
tinction between itself and the feebleness of the preceding vanish. 

The uses of the concrete and the radical pitch above described, 
point out two essential distinctions between the melody of speech 
and that of song. And first: song generally employs the pro- 
tracted radical or protracted vanish, on all its extended sylables ; 
whereas speech always employs the simple concrete, or the wave. 



18-4 THE DIATONIC 

Second: in the diatonic melody of speech, the radical pitch pro- 
cedes by proximate degrees, or changes of a single tone. The 
melody of song procedes variously both by proximate degrees, 
and by skips of wider intervals of the scale. 

In treating hereafter, on emphasis, and on interrogative sen- 
tences, the occasions and manner of using wider radical changes in 
speech, will be shown. The melody of simple narrative or inex- 
pressive speech, now before us, always moves by proximate degrees. 

Having given the name of Diatonic Melody to the current in- 
tonation of the dispassionate or thoughtive state of mind, and 
having learned that this intonation should consist of a certain 
inexpressive or thoughtive vocal signj we may perceve the pro- 
priety of applying the name of that melody, both to the state 
and the sign. In addition then to the nomenclature in the sixth 
section, I shall employ the term, diatonic, as synonymous with 
that of thoughtivej for the individual state of mind, and the 
individual vocal sign ; and for the style or drift of the same state, 
and sign. 

We procede to analyze the intonation applied to the three final 
sylables of a sentence; and which, from its position and peculiar 
purpose, I have contradistinguished as the Melody of the Cadence. 

When the eight notes of the musical diatonic scale are uttered, 
both ascending and descending, by a repetition of the word cor- 
dova, the appropriation of sylables will bej cor-do-va cor-do-va 
cor-do; and descending^ cor-do cor-do-va cor-do-va. By this 
sol-faing if I may so speak, on these sylables, the last repetition 
of the word in the descent, is allotted to the three lower notes of 
the scale ; the final sylable making a full close on its key-note. 
In this experiment, the intonation is supposed to be by the pro- 
tracted note of song; as it would certainly be so made, by a per- 
son familiar with the scale. Yet while descending, if these last 
three notes of song be changed to equable concretes of speech, with 
a downward vanish, the effect on the ear will be identical with 
that of the same word, properly uttered at a full period of dis- 
course. From this and other trials, it may be learned, that the 
cadence in speech, is always made with three successively down- 
ward radicals, from the line of the current melody; or by other 
downward concrete movements of the like extent. 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 185 

But the most remarkable effect of the cadence lies in another 
point. All the radical sounds of the current melody are repre- 
sented in the preceding diagrams, as terminating in a rising van- 
ish; yet we shall learn hereafter, that the purposes of variety 
often require the use of a downward concrete. The purpose of 
this downward concrete in the cadence, is to bring the current 
to a close; and with this intention, the last constituent or its 
concrete terminative is always made by the downward vanish 
of a tone, or even a wider interval. This descent of the con- 
crete, here so easily distinguishable from its rise, assists in pro- 
ducing the repose at the end of a sentence; and constitutes, in 
connection with the series of three descending radicals, the essen- 
tial characteristic of the cadence. 

It was stated above, that each sylable of the current diatonic 
melody has a concrete tone appropriated to it. The concretes of 
the cadence are not always so assigned. Let us for the sake of 
reference, designate the constituent concretes of the cadence, by 
their numeral positions. 

In the First form of the cadence, the first, second, and third 
constituent has each a corresponding sylable, with a downward 
vanish on the last. From the rising vanish on two of its constit- 
uents, let us call it the Rising Triad. 

Sweet is the breath of morn. 



*" t < <—*■ 



The Second form has a similar appropriation of concretes to 
sylables; with a downward vanish on each constituent. Let this 
be called the Falling Triad; or, as it denotes the most complete 
close, the Full Cadence. 

The air was fanned by uoi num ber'd plumes. 



d 4 *^i 



These first two forms may also be called Tripartite. 
13 



186 THE DIATONIC 

In the Third, the first and second concretes^ or a concrete that 
occupies the conjoined intervals of the first and second 3 is allotted 
to a single sylable. From the first and second tones being here 
set to one sylable, call this the First Duad. 

With tur ret crest and sleek en- — am el'd neck. 




t* 



In the Fourth, the second and third coalesce on one sylable. 
From the second and third tones being thus assigned, call this 
the Second Duad. 



The 


mean — 


ing, 


not 


the 


name, 


I 


call. 


^ 


4 


^ 






4 


4 


a i 


W' 


\ 1 



In the Fifth, the three constituents are appropriated to one 
long sylable. As this is the least impressive form of the close, 
we call it the Feeble Cadence. 



No, 


by 


the 


rood 


not 


so. 


m 


4 


W 


-r 


4 




\ " V 



In the Sixth form, which should properly be called a False 
Cadence, the second constituent is omitted, as in the following 
notation. 

Of wiles more in ex pert I boast not. 



rf^L_«r_^_*L 



This takes place, when the ultimate and penult sylables of a 
sentence are each so short, that giving to either, the length of two 
conjoined concretes, would deform pronunciation. It is to be 






MELODY OF SPEECH. 187 

avoided, by making the two short sylables, the second and third, 
of a tripartite form. 

In this last example, the cadence should be properly tripartite 
or a successive descent of three tones, on the words, / boast not. 
Should a reader by unskilful management, neglect to set the syl- 
able boast, with the radical pitch of a tone below I, he will be 
unable to complete the cadence, by a downward prolongation of 
the short sylable not, through the interval of two tones, as shown 
in the fourth form of the cadence. But a full close cannot be 
made without the third constituent^ or an extension of the second, 
by a downward vanish through its place ; and as the sylable not, 
on account of its short time, is incapable of this last condition, 
in a deliberate cadence the second constituent must be omitted, 
and a defective or false cadence made by a skip to the last place 
of the triad. 

From this account of the cadence, we have learned that its 
construction is in part directed by the time of sylables. The 
tripartite forms may be used under any condition of quantity; 
should the three, and even the two final sylables be short, and 
not admit of prolongation, it is the only one available. When 
the penult alone is long, the first duad may be used; the second 
duad and the feeble each requires a long quantity in the last 
sylable. 

Of the six forms of the cadence, all except the last give by ap- 
propriate use, a satisfactory and agreeable close; but the first 
and second, which procede by an equal number of concretes and 
sylables, are of the easiest execution. The third, fourth, and 
fifth, each conjoining the spaces of two and three concretes re- 
spectively on a single sylable, require unusual facility in the 
management of Quantity. Skill in commanding the time of 
utterance will enable an accomplished reader to perform with 
equal ease and elegance, these three varieties of cadence, and to 
give a faultless close, however unexpectedly he may meet with a 
period in discourse; whereas the ordinary reader frequently fails 
in the melody of his cadence, from being limited to the use of the 
tripartite. For should his current melody be so continued, that 
a monotone or rising ditone reaches to the penult sylable, the 
cadence will necessarily be awkward or falsej either from the last 



188 THE DIATONIC 

sylable being short, or from his being unable to manage his time 
and intonation on a single long one. The sixth, or last described 
form of the cadence, occurs occasionally with the mass of speakers; 
but it is strictly forbidden by the rule of a good composition in 
melody. 

The fifth form of the cadence, which is made restrictively upon 
the last sylable, is peculiar. It appears that the voice does pass 
downward through the same extent of pitch, as when the cadence 
is made in the tripartite form ; yet by this wider descent of the 
first constituent, the radicals of the second and third constitu- 
ents are lost. Now it is the fulness of the radical that draws 
the attention of the ear to the discrete changes of pitch, and 
conspicuously marks the descent of the triad at the close. The 
omission therefore of the radicals of the second and third con- 
cretes, lessens the impressiveness of this form, and justifies its 
term, Feeble Cadence. When the reader can follow the notation, 
he will perceve a difference between the effect of the full and the 
feeble close; and will admit, that the full or falling triad with its 
downward vanishes, produces a more satisfactory condition of 
the period. 

In the diagrams of the cadence, it appears, by measuring from 
the radical of the first constituent, to the extreme of the down- 
ward vanish of the last, that all the forms except the fifth, em- 
brace the interval of a fourth. And though I have marked this 
last form, nominally as a third, yet the feeble cadence may be 
made by an extension of the concrete, downward to a fourth or 
fifth. Nor do I denyj the downward concrete of all the con- 
stituents may not, on occasion, reach beyond the tone here 
assigned to it. I have assumed the interval of the third as the 
characteristic of the feeble cadence, because it is the smallest 
downward interval that has, in its place, the effect of a close; 
and the effect, or if I may so call it, the punctuative intonation of 
this Feeble cadence is such, that the ear allows a speaker either 
to pause after it, or to procede in his discourse. 

A proper construction of the cadence is essential to the just 
melody of speech ; for having the peculiar character of a close, 
and occurring more rarely than the other phrases, it does more 
emphatically affect the ear ; and its position at the pause, neces- 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 189 

sarily subjects it to discriminative attention. It must be well 
known to those who have witnessed the efforts of children, that 
the proper management of a close of the voice in reading is 
acquired with great difficulty, and after a length of time. I have 
heard offensive deviations from the true rule of the cadence, by 
actors of long practice and considerable skill-; who would have 
guarded their utterance against the alleged fault, if their powers 
instead of being exercised only in the benumbing school of imi- 
tation, had been directed by that freedom and energy which 
should govern the effective powers of speech. 

In the first section of this essay, the term Key was defined, to 
signify a certain arrangement of the constituents of the musical 
scale; and we now procede to inquire with what propriety the 
term is applied to the melodial ranges of the speaking voice. 

As a generic term in music, Key designates the proper suc- 
cession of tones and semitones in the diatonic scale. It includes 
several species of a similar order of successions, carried on from 
each of the several places of the scale, as the beginning of those 
similar orders. It was shownj there are twelve keys in music, 
founded on the semitonic divisions; within each of which, an air 
or melody may be restrictively performed; with a regulated 
method, however, of conducting that melody, from one to another, 
successively through the whole twelve, by what is called Modula- 
tion. An agreeable melody may likewise be made upon a pro- 
gression of the scalej with the semitones differently placed, from 
those of the progression, described in the first section. The 
diatonic scale has two kinds of succession. In one a semitone 
lies between the third and fourth notes, and between the seventh 
and octave, as formerly taught; constituting the kind of suc- 
cession called the Major scale, or Mode. In the other, a semi- 
tone lies between the second and third notes, and the fifth and 
sixth in descending the scalej and between the second and third, 
and the seventh and eighth in ascending; forming the succession 
of the Minor Mode. As there are twelve points of the scale, 
from each of which a diatonic may be arranged, so there may be 
twenty-four keys; twelve constructed in the Major Mode, and 
twelve in the Minor. A melody in music formed on the series of 
the latter mode, has a plaintive expression, from the peculiar 



190 THE DIATONIC 

position of the semitones. The plaintiveness of speech, we shall 
learn hereafter, is produced by an entirely different method of 
intonation. 

The melody of Music, both in the major and in the minor scale, 
is variously made by progressions of skips, and of conjoint degrees, 
through a series of five tones and two semitones, in a given key; 
and the song or movement so constructed is terminated with entire 
satisfaction to the ear, when brought to a close on the first point 
of the series, called the key-note. 

The melody of Narrative or plain unimpassioned Speech pro- 
cedes by conjoint degrees only; and its satisfactory close at a 
period of discourse is effected by a descent of its radical pitch 
through three conjoint degrees, with a downward concrete from 
the last. The scale of the speaking voice has no fixed place for 
semitones; nor is it limited like that of music, to a peculiar ar- 
rangement of seven constituent intervals. When a person can 
speak distinctly through a compass of ten diatonic degreesj in- 
cluded between the lowest pitch of articulate utterance and the 
highest point of the natural voicej his melody may by the use of a 
succession of proper conjoint phrases, be carried in the following 
manner, through any wandering course of ascent and descent, 
within these boundaries. Let him take his first sylable on the 
first place of this supposed range. A ditone will raise the melody 
to the second, and an additional concrete on that second place, 
will make the phrase of the monotone. From this, a ditone will 
lead him upward to the third place ; and in like manner ascend- 
ing, the melody may be carried to the tenth. From this utmost 
elevation, a falling ditone will bring him to the ninth; a monotone 
on this will prepare the voice for another ditone descent to the 
eighth. Having by a similar progress reached the third place, 
the triad of the cadence, with the downward concrete of its final 
constituent, will close the melody on the first. 

In the foregoing description, the melody is conducted formally 
up and down, to show the manner of changing the pitch, by avoid- 
ing more than two directly successive rising or falling radicals. 
But the rising tritone may also be used both in ascending and 
descending; and the progress varied by a longer monotone, and 
by defering the rise, or the fall, with the use of respectively 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 191 

an occasional phrase, of contrary movement. It is by avoid- 
ing an ascent and descent of more than three concretes in suc- 
cession, that the desirable changes through acuteness and gravity 
in speech, may be effected in an easy and agreeable manner : 
for the beauty of melody consists, both in skilfully varying the 
order of phrases, as they move onwards^ and in correctly manag- 
ing the rise and fall through the whole compass of pitch. The 
following notation shows the progress of the voice within a com- 
pass of nine diatonic degrees; the rule of a gradual rise and 
fall being observed, and the melody being therein agreeably 
diversified. 



If 


thou 


dost 


slan 


der 


her 


and 


tor — ture me, 




tf . 






aT 




*r 


if 


¥ 


£ «f 


¥~ 


¥' . 




¥ 








— 



Ne — ver 


pray 


more: 


a — ban-don 


all 


re morse ; 




tf d 


gf 


m 


_, ^4 


4 


* * 


-w • — 


— V 


\ 


tfur 9 ^ 









On 


hor ror's 


head 


hor rors 


ac— 


— cu — mu — late ; 


^*- 












* ¥ 


¥ 


* ¥ 


¥ 


# tf 








9 * * 





Do deeds 


to make 


Hea-ven 


weep, all 


earth 


a 


-mazed : 




tii 


<£<* 


W w 


4 


4 


% 


©r * 


«f • 










A^ 







For no-thing canst thou to dam — na — tion add, 



u 


-*—* * 4 


*r * ^ ^ 









192 THE DIATONIC 

Great er than that. 



±=±=^=; 



The above notation is designed to exemplify exclusively, the 
means of passing through the compass of Speech; for though 
the style is highly passionative, it may, like the narrative, still 
move upward and downward by proximate degrees. If it were 
here the place to represent the proper intonation of this forcible 
passage^ other forms of both the radical and concrete pitch, and 
of other modes of the voice, would be required. This subject will 
be considered hereafter. At the two colon pauses, which in cor- 
rect reading will not bear a full close, I have set the less con- 
spicuous interruption of the feeble cadence. 

Although the foregoing account of the melody of music and of 
speech represents the forms of the radical and vanish, and their 
melodial progressions, so widely different from each other; yet, 
as the several keys in music do designate different degrees of 
pitch, and as the effect of the key-note does resemble that of the 
cadence in speech, there would seem to be some similarity between 
them. For since a descent in speech, of three degrees of radical 
pitch with a downward vanish from the last, always produces a 
cadence, and affects the ear like the consummation of a key-note 
in musicj it follows, that in a voice with a compass of ten diatonic 
degrees, every degree, except the upper two, may be the place of 
what we will here, in supposing the case, call a key-note of speech; 
and therefore, by the conditions of a key-note in music, that such 
a voice might be said to have eight keys. But there would be an 
unavoidable difficulty in this specification of the keys of spoken 
melody. When a musical melody is said to be in a particular 
key, the term designates exactly the position of its key-note. 
The melody of speech cannot properly be refered to a particular 
key, nor has it a fixed place for the key-note; as it may be ter- 
minated by a triad of the cadence, at any degree of the scale. 
The constituents of the monotone are the only concretes of a 
melody, to which a semblance of the function of key could be 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 193 

assigned, for they would each have the same position in the ca- 
dencial close. When a cadence is made on any of the other 
phrases, the triad which descends to a close from the place of one 
of its constituents, must differ from the triad descending from 
another. 

Such being the fruitless attempt to designate the key of a 
single phrasej how much more indefinitely must a particular key 
be affirmed of a current melody composed of a continually vary- 
ing succession of phrases. The true place of key can be affirmed 
only of the first constituent of the cadence itself, because the suc- 
cession of its last two, and the place of its closing concrete, with 
regard to the first, are unalterably fixed. Yet even in this case, 
the technical and true meaning of the term key is no way appli- 
cable. Looking on the first constituent of the triad, as determin- 
ing the place of key, when applied to speech^ a particular key may 
be appropriated to each degree of the whole compass, except the 
lower two; and consequently the key, if it can be so called, of a 
current melody must perpetually change. 

The peculiar series of tone and semitone, in the scales of music; 
the necessity for rules of modulation, to govern the change from 
one series to another; together with the purposes of Concerting, 
and of Harmonic composition, led to the definite nomenclature and 
arrangement of musical keys. A melodial progression exclu- 
sively by whole tones, in the speaking scaler and the unaccom- 
panied, or strictly solo-vocal office of speech, do not require the 
use of Key: the designations therefore of its range and form of 
melody, perhaps call for no nearer precision than that of a clas- 
sification into the upper, middle, and lower pitch of the voice. 
There is then no Key in Speech. 

From this view of the speaking voice it may be perceved, why 
in the notation of its melody I have used only the staff of the 
musical tablature, without reference to its clefs or its signatures. 
Clefs are used in music for the purposes of Concerting; by de- 
termining with precision the proper places of pitch, for several 
voices or instruments, moving in accompaniment. They are there- 
fore useless to the singleness of speech. Nor does the melody of 
Narrative require the System of Key, or the Signature of Flats 
and Sharps, which are necessary in the musical scale, from the 



194 THE DIATONIC 

position of its semitones. The naked lines and spaces of the 
Staff, denoting the proximate succession of a tone, afford the 
proper and sufficient means for ilustrating the intonation of nar- 
rative or diatonic speech. 

The term Modulation is used in music, to signify the transi- 
tions of melody, and of harmonic composition, from one key to 
another. A consideration of the propriety of using this term to 
signify similar changes in the melody of speech, is involved in the 
question, of the propriety of applying the musical term key to 
the variations of pitch in the speaking voice: and we have seen 
the almost universal difference between the regular system of keys 
in music, and the melodial method of speech. There is then, no 
Modulation in the speaking voice. 

The preceding history of the musical, and of the speaking 
scale, is intended to show the relationships between them : but it 
appears from comparison^ there is no systematic analogy to jus- 
tify the transfer of the term key; and that of modulation, which 
embraces only the practical use of key; from music to speech. 
The transfer was, however, long ago made, and the terms are still 
continued, under a total ignorance of the method of intonation 
in the speaking voice. When the truth of the analysis set forth 
in this section shall be admitted, it will be obligatory on all those 
who derive pleasure or benefit from accuracy of knowledge, to 
distinguish by appropriate names, those phenomena which negli- 
gence may have suffered to pass as identical. If the musical 
terms, key and modulation, had not receved an unmeaning ad- 
mission into the nomenclature of the speaking voice, the descrip- 
tion of its melody would not, in these last pages, have been 
complicated with a record of the waste work of investigation, 
which the inquirer is ready to expunge and forget, when he has 
discovered and declared the simple truth. And had the hitherto 
untried subject of melody been releved from the blinding conse- 
quences of that erroneous nomenclature, the unargued and un- 
biased history of its changes would have been briefly this. The 
diatonic melody of the speaking voice may be led, ascending and 
descending, through its whole compass, by a succession exclu- 
sively of whole tones; and may from any point except the lowest 
two, be brought to a satisfactory close, by the descent of three 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 195 

radicals through conjoint degrees, with a downward concrete on 
the last. 

If I do not here follow the prefered brevity, nor omit the de- 
tails which show the principles of key and modulation to be inap- 
plicable to speech; it is that I anticipated a slow yielding accord- 
ance, from the habit of an erroneous nomenclature; and that I 
chose perhaps advantageously, to introduce into the recorded 
investigation, some further or varied remarks on the melody of 
speech. 

In reviewing the subject just closed, I fear the described phe- 
nomena of the voice may not be immediately recognized, nor the 
system of their combination at once definitely comprehended. 
The difficulties in this case may procede not only from the com- 
mon mental slowness and indocility to newly offered subjects of 
knowledge, but likewise from the connected system of such sub- 
jects, being dimly arrayed before the inquiry which was able to 
discover their insulated truths. The art of observation is a 
matter of apprenticeship and practice ; and it is the time, no less 
than the manner of the work, that contributes to the enduring 
excelence of a master. Thoughts not impressed by the deep 
sealing of time, nor familiarized by the close acquaintance of 
habit, are feeble or deluding agents in the arduous task of com- 
parison and arrangement ; for it will be found that the author 
who first institutes, or who comprehensively renovates a science, 
rarely adds the clearest economy of system to his work. To look 
widely, yet closely, is the paradox of the powers of Heaven; and 
he who spans the broad compass of a science, while he touches its 
divisions and points, is partially raised above the bounded pros- 
pects and efforts of humanity, by this humble tendency towards 
Omniscience. To him is due that surpassing compliment greatly 
conceved by the contemplative Greek ; who knowing upon what 
combined and exalted perceptions to place the crown of intelec- 
tual glory, declared, that he who can Arrange and Define well, 
might be fit company for the Gods. 



—..»♦«©©«<..— 



196 VOCALITY OF THE VOICE. 

SECTION IX. 

Of Vocality of the Voice. 

Vocality is one of the five Modes of speech. Its principal 
forms are the Natural, the Falsette, and the Orotund Voices, 
together with those embraced by the common nomenclature of 
harsh, hoarse, rough, smooth, full, thin, meager, and tunable. It 
is as it were, a general material of speech ; and many of its forms 
are employed for the purpose of expression. 

Instead of the term, musical, commonly employed under this 
head, I use Tunable, to signify, as formerly stated, a certain 
agreeable sound either in the voice, or on instruments. It means 
vocality alone, and does not, as we employ it, regard the relation- 
ship of pitch or tune. The tunable is only the smooth and the 
clear in sound, distinguished from the roughness and confusion 
of noise. 

There are certain states of mind instinctively connected with 
appropriate forms of vocality. The natural voice is accommo- 
dated to coloquial dialogue, and familiar reading. The orotund, 
to the dignity of the Stage, and the deliberate language of serious 
oratory. The falsette, to the emphatic scream of terror and sur- 
prise. It is not necessary to particularize here, the state of mind, 
calling respectively for a harsh, full, rude, and courteous vocality. 
The history of their specific appropriation, in the art of reading, 
may be learned from books. 

Regarding these forms of vocality, as distributed among man- 
kind, some voices are restricted to the harsh, or to the meager. 
Few persons have from nature, a pure orotund. Some speak 
altogether in falsette; and women are apt to use it in careless 
pronunciation. Most voices however, may by diligent cultivation 
be improved in vocality. 

This mode of the voice is not to be regarded soley in the simple 
and insulated light, here represented. It is susceptible of com- 
bination with force, time, pitch, and abruptness. For some kinds 
of vocality must necessarily be united with some of the forms, 



ABRUPTNESS OF SPEECH. 197 

degrees, and varieties of the other modes. It must be either 
strong or weak; its time long or short; its emission abrupt or 
gradual; and it must be of some definite radical or concrete pitch. 
Certain forms are however, exclusively congenial with particular 
conditions of these other modes; thus smoothness will more gen- 
erally affect the moderate degrees of force. Similar congeniali- 
ties may be discovered by the slightest reflection. 

It would be easy to select from authors and from familiar 
discourse, phrases or sentences requiring respectively, the forms 
of voice here enumerated. But I designed to limit the pages of 
this Work, consistently with the purpose of definite description ; 
aiming to make known the hitherto unrecorded phenomena of 
speech, rather than add to the present excess of compilation. No 
diagram can represent the kinds of vocality ; and every attempt 
to make them plainer than they are under their metaphorical 
designation, would be without success. 



SECTION X. 

Of Abruptness of Speech. 

On the first publication of this Work, I anticipated objections 
to the classification of Abruptness, separately from Force. In the 
fourth edition I added this section^ to state some of the grounds 
of that arrangement. I had not proceded twenty pages, in the 
first desultory record of observations on the voice, before the ful- 
ness of the radical opening was perceved to be a fact of very gen- 
eral occurrence in speech. On further observing^ its cause was 
traced to a certain occlusion of the breath; and this was found to 
be an important and peculiar agent in the production of accent, 
tremor, and sylabication. Finding it could not be very precisely 
classed under the mode of Force, to which it is partially related, 
I resolved to make it a mode by itself; yet a mode with differ- 
ences in degree only, not in form : and unlike every other mode, 



108 ABRUPTNESS OF SPEECH. 

in having but two positions in speech: one more obvious, at the 
opening of the radical; the other, less remarkable but equally 
efficacious, in the vocule at the end of the subtonic elements. It 
is in the first case, a manner of enforcing Force, not merely by a 
higher degree of that force, but by another and peculiar mode. 
Abruptness may then be added to force, to render it more em- 
phatic; just as force may be added to passionative intonation, to 
increase its expression; or as any one mode of the voice may be 
united with another, for an additional or peculiar effect ; making 
abruptness and force, each with the other, co-efficient but not 
identical causes. 

The mechanism and action that produce this Abruptness, con- 
sist in an occlusion of some vocal passage, and a forcing of the 
breath against that obstruction, till the voice issues with a sudden 
opening of the occlusion. It is a momentary function; and thereby 
distinguished from force, which is essentially made on some dura- 
tion of time, vocality, or intonation; for force to be strong and 
momentary, must be abrupt. But further, abruptness may be 
equally applied to the initial of vocality, to make its harshness 
more shocking; of the orotund, to make the fulness of its radical 
more impressive; and of pitch, to mark conspicuously its places 
on the scale. It has been shown, on what occasions it governs 
the construction of sylables; and how by the vocule it produces a 
fluent coalescence of elements, in continued discourse. We shall 
learn hereafter, how it effects clearness of articulation; how, in 
its moderate degree^ for it is here plainly contradistinguished 
from impressive force* it is the principal formative cause of the 
tremulous scale; and how it is related to the Shake of Song. 
Although the voice, without this mode, would want one of its 
striking characteristics in expression, and fail in its important 
uses, for emphasis and fluent articulation ; yet the full and ready 
power over this means of energetic speech is possessed by few, and 
is acquired only by attention, and by strenuous effort. When it 
is instinctive with an individual, it is the indication of an excitable 
nervous and muscular system ; and although often connected with 
a quick and effective intelect, it is not necessarily nor always a 
sign of it. The explosive bark of the dog, and the short, abrupt, 
and repeated sylable-like put of the strutting turkey, are as much 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 199 

a sign of mere animal anger, in one case, and of what seems to be 
instinctive vanity, in the other; as a like abruptness would be, of 
some of the vulgar passions of the ignorant and thoughtless part 
of mankind. I say, of a sub-animal unreflective vanity, for self- 
enjoyed vanity is exclusively a human vice. 

To this explosion of the voice, which as a peculiar means of 
articulation and expression, has never been systematically re- 
cognizedj or has receved only a transient and heedless notice^ we 
have occasion to make continual reference in the course of this 
Work. Its most remarkable employment will hereafter be shown 
in the full and sudden opening of the radical movement. This 
opening abruptness, or as we call it, Radical stress, will be con- 
sidered hereafter under the Mode of Force; not as properly one 
of its forms, but merely to connect it with two of the other 
stresses, which, though wanting abruptness, are .yet justly classed 
with that forceful mode. 

— - •>*© © &*~- — 



SECTION XL 

Of the Time of the Voice. 

Two of the cherished relationships of man to man are selfish- 
ness and emulation. Accustomed therefore to regard himself in 
the light of personal importance, and of relative position, he is 
prone to look for consequence and rank in natural things. But 
Nature affects neither egotism nor precedence, When the five 
modes of the voice are brought before us, we have that aristo- 
cratic bias in human curiosity, to discover which is the most im- 
portant. Yet all are essential and equal in the self-satisfied, and 
unjealous purposes of Creation; where alone, the Republican 
pretension does, and until man shall be as wise, and modest, and 
unenvious as Naturej ever can present itself. Considering vocal- 
ity, or its occult Substratum, as notional metaphysicians would 
call it, to be the material of the voice, we see the necessity of its 
universality: and we shall find that Time, the mode we are now 
about to consider, is an equally pervading constituent of speech. 



200 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

The degrees in duration or in the time of the voice, are repre- 
sented though indefinitely, by the terms, long, short, quick, and 
slow; and are variously used, both for simple narrative, and for 
expression. 

To be precise^ let long and short designate the time of sylables 
relatively to each other ; quick and slow, the utterance of any 
series or aggregate of words. A sylable has a long or short time, 
or Quantity, as it is called in this case; a phrase, an entire sen- 
tence, or a continued current of discourse is pronounced in quick 
or slow time. The occasions for employing these last divisions 
of time are well known. The state of dignity, deliberation, 
doubt, and grief affect a slow time; that of gayety, anger, and 
eager argument, together with parenthetic phrases, assume the 
quick time in utterance. 

It is necessary -however, to be more particular on the time of 
individual sylables, comparatively considered; and to regard them 
otherwise than under their ordinary prosodial distinctions. 

The time of sylables varies from the shortest utterable, to their 
utmost prolongation in oratorical expression. To reduce this in- 
definite view to available divisions, for future reference, we will 
arrange sylables under three classes. Let the First embrace 
those restricted to the shortest quantity : the Second, those limited 
to a quantity somewhat greater than that of the first : the Third, 
those of a quantity, varying from the shortest, to even an indefi- 
nite prolongation. 

To the First class belong many of those sylables terminated by 
an abrupt element; and containing a tonic, or an additional sub- 
tonic, or the further addition of an atonic, such as at, ap, eh, 
hap-less, j^Y-fall, ac-cep-tance. It is not the short quantity alone 
of a sylable that gives the character to this class ; for many, with 
the construction of the third may be, and sometimes are in com- 
mon usage, equally short. Those now under consideration have 
this essential characteristic^ they cannot be prolonged, without 
deforming pronunciation. The word convict, when accented on 
the first sylable as a noun, and on the last as a verb has, in sim- 
ple utterance, a certain quantity allotted to the accented sylable. 
If, for the purpose of rhetorical expression on the noun, the time 
of the first is indefinitely prolonged, the identical character of the 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 201 

word still remains, notwithstanding that extension. With a simi- 
lar time on the last sylable of the verb, to convict, its drawling 
pronunciation is remarkable. The sylables assigned to this first 
class, not admitting an alteration in quantity, may be called Im- 
mutable. I shall hereafter show their relations to the movements 
of pitch, and to the functions of accent and emphasis. 

To the Second class belong most of those sylables terminated 
by an abrupt element, and containing one or more subtonics or 
atonies, with a short tonic. The subtonic in this case allows an 
additional time, greater than that of sylables in the preceding 
class ; still the abrupt element and the short tonic limit even this 
moderate extension. Of this class are yet, what, lip, grat-itu^e, 
des-frwe-tion. In these instances the sylables are longer than 
those of the immutable class; and for the purpose of expression, 
the subtonics may be slightly extended beyond their length, in 
simple utterance. But with undue prolongation, they have the 
like offensive drawl and deformity perceved in the forced exten- 
sion of the immutable class. As those included under the present 
head admit of a slight change in quantity, they may be called 
Mutable sylables. 

To the Third class belong all those sylables terminated by a 
tonic element, or a subtonic, except b, d, and g. Of this kind 
are go, thee, for, day, man, de-lay, he-guile, ex-treme, care-less, 
and xe-volve. If the speaker can give full audibility to the essen- 
tial guttural murmur of the subtonics, b, d, and g, their position, 
at the end of a sylable, allows a limited prolongation, without 
obscuring the character of the sylable: as in the words deed, 
plague, babe, res-tored. But the effect in these cases, is by no 
means to be compared with that of an extension of time upon 
other subtonics, and on tonics. In the above pure examples of 
this class, the quantity may be prolonged, without the disagree- 
able effect, produced by an increase of time, under the preceding 
classes. It is the peculiar character of these sylables, that they 
preserve their identical sylabic sound, through every degree of 
prolongation ; whereas the immutable and mutable, in some cases 
can scarcely be recognized under a forced extension. From their 
allowable variety, the sylables of this class may be said to have 
an indefinite quantity; and may be called Indefinite sylables. 
U 



202 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

They furnish important means for the expression of speech; some 
of its most passionative forms, being made on sylables, with this 
power of indefinite prolongation. 

The Reader is to receve the foregoing classification, as one 
adapted to our view of the expressive uses of time. The inves- 
tigation of the causes of expression, soon showed the importance 
of other distinctions of quantity, than those of long and short; 
which, after a thousand years and more, of pretending observa- 
tion, we continue to transcribe from the meager record of Greek 
and Latin prosody. The phenomena of expression first directed 
the division here made ; and however it may be otherwise applied, 
it will be necessary for the, ready explanation of future parts of 
this essay. Whatever may be thought of its sufficiency, I must 
still belevej it is high-time for the superannuated sages of classical 
literature, to turn-aside the old grammatical ear, in their prosodial 
researches ; and try if some modern vocal analysis, may not 
effect upon them, one of those renovations of sense, which it is 
said, have now and then resuscitated the torpid perceptions of 
extreme longevity. 

The power of giving indefinite prolongation to sylables, is not 
commonly possessed by speakers. It is truej the daily use of the 
voice frequently calls for extended quantity; but daily discourse 
is often simple narrative, or if directed by an excited state of 
mind, is that of active argument, or of contending interests, 
which employ for the most part, the short time of sylables and 
the rapid course of utterance. Still, the assertion that a long 
quantity is not easily practicable, may seem to be questionable: 
since persons who sing can readily extend their time to an indefi- 
nite length ; and all utter cries in the same manner. But these 
voices are generally made on protracted notes ; the difficulty to 
which we here allude, is in the execution of the equable concrete 
of speech. We have shown that different forms of the radical 
and vanish are respectively employed in speech, and song. With- 
out attention to the use of these forms, it is not always easy to 
restrict them to their appropriate places. A reader who has not 
by practice, a facility in executing the long quantities of speech, 
will be liable, in extending his sylables, to fall into the protracted 
radical or protracted vanish of song. On the other hand, when 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 203 

persons without a musical ear and a singing-voice, imperfectly 
remember and endeavor to imitate, the melodial successions of 
song, they are apt to change many of its notes, into the equable 
concrete of speech. Prolonged cries, and interjections which are 
only more moderate cries, are always made either by the pro- 
tracted notes of song, or by movements through the wider inter- 
vals and their waves ; and though these intervals and waves are 
both proper to speech, yet the prolonged cry and interjection are 
the forced effect of occasional passion; and this not often occur- 
ring in ordinary utterance, the cause is not continued, and the 
vocal practice not confirmed. 

The foregoing notice of the exclusion of the peculiar intona- 
tions of song from speech, furnishes one cause why persons of 
great accomplishment as singers, are nevertheless indifferent 
readers or commonplace actors. Other causes will hereafter 
be assigned for the general want of interchangeable facility in 
the exercise of the arts of song, and speech. That arising from 
the different structures of the radical and vanish in the two cases, 
is not the least influential. The endowed singer may have at 
command all the means of expression, employed in song: but 
these means, as we shall learn, are peculiar to song, and are not 
transferable to speech; and though he is able to clothe every 
feeling of the Composer, with the melodious succession of his 
long-drawn notes, his disqualified attempts at speaking intona- 
tion, strip off or tear to pieces, every expression, to be spread by 
the equable concrete, over the language of the Poet. 

To return from this account of different forms of the concrete, 
to the consideration of the uses of its varied quantity. An im- 
mutable, mutable, and indefinite time, has each its appropriate 
manner of fulfiling the purposes of expression. It is however, 
upon indefinite sylables that the most graceful and dignified effect 
of intonation is accomplished; as we shall learn in future parts of 
this essay. Readers who are ignorant of the principles of quan- 
tity, do yet perceve the necessity of a deliberate movement, for 
a grave and admirative expression. They therefore, endeavor to 
supply the want of a long sylabic time, by slight pauses after 
words, and even between sylables. Propriety and taste however, 
allow here no compensation : they require most of the prolonged 



204 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

time in dignified utterance, to be spent on the sylable itself, and 
reject the other means, as offensive monotony or affectation. 

Eminent instances of the essential importance of long quantity 
may be shown, by considering the sylabic construction of sen- 
tences with reference to expression: for as the vocal signs of 
certain states of mind require the prolonged time of indefinite 
sylables-; it may happen that such states are to be expressed on 
the limited duration of a mutable, or the mere moment of an im- 
mutable time. This may be ilustrated by a passage from the 
fourth book of Paradise Lost, where Satan is brought before 
Gabriel. In the dialogue between them, one of the replications 
of Satan is as follows. 

Not that I less 'endure,' or shrink from pain, 

In-sirtt-\ng angel! well thou know'st I stood 

Thy^erc-est, when in battle to thy aid, 

The blasting vollied thunder made all speed, 

And seconded thy else not dread-ed spear. 

But still thy words at random, as before, 

Argue thy inexperience what behoves 

From hard assays and ill successes past 

A faithful leader, not to hazard ' all ' 

Through ways of danger by himself untried: 

'I,' therefore, 'I' 'alone' first undertook 

To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 

This new created world, whereof in Hell 

Fame is not silent, here in hope to find 

Better abode, and my afflicted powers 

To settle here on earth, or in mid air; 

Though for possession put to try once more 

What thou and thy gay legions 'dare' against: 

Whose easier business were to 'serve' their 'Lord' 

High up in Heaven, with songs to hymn his throne, 

And practis'd distances to 'cringe,' not fight. 

The language of this extract variously embraces argument, 
narrative, and passion. We here refer to the last. I have 
marked in italics, some of the sylables representing that state, 
but which are incapable of prolongation. The sylables, less, 
shrink, suit, fierce, else, and dread, belong to our class of muta- 
bles, yet they cannot be extended, without making in the several 
cases, the prolonged radical on I, e, and r; and this would change 






THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 205 

pronunciation to a drawl. We suppose less, taken with endure, 
to embrace the mental conditions of suffering and resignation^ 
shrink, those of taunt and exultation^ suit, those of complaint, 
pride and reproachj fierce, that of scornful defiance^ else, a con- 
tingency of self-confidence and contemptj and dread, when in- 
terpreted by the preceding exceptive, else, a similar contingency 
of self-relying courage. The expression of all these conditions, 
as we shall learn hereafter, calls for a prolonged quantity, on the 
wider intervals of pitch, and on the wave ; which the shortness of 
the elemental sounds, in the above emphatic sylables, does not 
allow. The emphasis of stress might indeed be laid upon them, 
but this would not express their purpose. The last line however, 
affords a more marked ilustration of the subject before us: for of 
the words not fight, the former is only mutable ; and the latter 
being strictly immutable, they cannot be extended, without a dis- 
agreeable departure from correct pronunciation. This phrase re- 
presenting a mental state of strong contempt and exultation, its 
expressive intonation should be made upon indefinite sylables. A 
reader of delicate perception can never satisfy his ear on these 
restricted quantities. I have throughout the extract, marked 
with inverted commas, a few words, embracing states of mind 
that call for wide intervals on an extended time; and these 
words by their power of indefinite prolongation allow the required 
expression. 

I add here another exemplification of this subject, from the 
generic, brief, and magnificent description of Satan's Imperial 
Presence in Pandemonium, at the opening of the second book of 
Paradise Lost. 

High on a throne of royal state, which far 
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, 
Or, where the gorgeous East with richest hand 
Showers on her Kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
Satan exalted sat. 

In these lines, Milton, with a just instinct of versification, has 
employed long quantities, in happy adaptation to the admirative 
dignity of the description. 

I use here, rather remarkably, the term, instinct of versifica- 
tion, not in oversight of the inteligence with which this Extra- 



206 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

ordinary Man executed every high design and every tittle of his 
work; but because it is clearly seen he did not intend to con- 
struct the measure of his poem by the rules of quantity alone. 
The development of the full resources of an accentual versification 
by Milton, was a new and absorbing labor. Had this advance-step 
preceded him, the originality and restless enterprise of his inte- 
lect, would most probably have added to the many available 
principles of Greek and Roman composition, so happily trans- 
fered to his own language^ the accomplishment of the supposed 
impossibility of adopting the rules of their prosody. In most of 
the words of the above example, where the majesty of his thought 
so secured the homage of quantity, some of the sylables suddenly 
arrest the perception of extended movement and deliberate dig- 
nity, produced by the indefinite time of those words. The syla- 
bles, state, rich) and sat, are too short for the otherwise good 
iambic temporal measure: and the word barbaric occasions some 
irregular contrariety in the impressions of quantity and accent. 
In the simple pronunciation of this word, the first sylable, bar, is 
somewhat longer than the second, which will not, in this case, 
bear unusual extension. And as the longer sylable is here in the 
place of the weak sylable of iambic accent, the impressiveness of 
exceding length reverses the succession of the prevailing measure. 
Nor does the simple meaning of the epithet barbaric, allow a suf- 
ficient degree of accentual stress on the second sylable, to over- 
rule the impressiveness of greater length in the first. If the 
Reader, excusing the rhetorical change, will substitute the ad- 
jective orient, for barbaric, he will perceve by comparison, the 
difference between the accentual and the temporal impression. 

Showers on | her kings | her or | ient pearl | and gold. 

Whether the first and the fourth section of this line are con- 
sidered respectively in order, a trochee and an iambus, as here 
marked, or as a dactyl and an anapest, as they may be read, by 
license in our iambic measurej the admissible prolongation of the 
indefinite sylable or-e, produces an admirative dignity of utter- 
ance that cannot be effected on the short time of the accented 
sylable of barbaric. And it may be added further, that this line 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 207 

does fulfil the conditions of poetic quantity, as completely as any 
line ever constructed with Greek or Roman words.* 

To a bad reader, nearly all sentences are alike, however im- 
properly constructed for vocal expression. He who looks abroad 
for excelence, through all the ways of the voice, must often find 
the tendencies and demands of his utterance restricted, by the 
unyielding character of an immutable phraseology. A limited 
discernment, and the common uses of quantity often suffice to set 
forth the thoughts of an author ; but an admirative or a passion- 
ative expression will in many cases be imperfect, or lost, if tried 
on the immutable time of sylables. A reader who can assume 
the mental state of the poet, will not be able to give the prompted 
expression to part of the last line of the following example. It is 
taken from Gabriel's answer to Satan's apology for his flight from 
Hell, just quoted, and is a comment on the title of faithful leader, 
vaunted by Satan. 

name, 
sacred name of faithfulness profan'd! 
Faithful to whom? to thy rebellious crew? 
Army of Fiends, jit body to jit head. 

The six sylables of this last phrase are short, and all the em- 
phatic ones are immutable. They contain a degree of admiration 
at the well marked fellowship, between a ringleader and his crew, 
mingled with scorn at the wicked faithfulness of the rebellious 
outcast: and these states of mind, we shall learn hereafter, can- 

* If the Reader would know how certain words may be pronounced as a foot 
or prosodial' section, either of two or of three sylables, let him recur to our 
principles of sylabication. The word showers is one sylable, when the e is 
omitted; the dipthongal tonic ou, vanishing directly into the subtonic r, as in 
showrs. If the sound of e is retained, that element requires its radical and 
vanish, and the word becomes thereby of two sylables, as in show-ers. The 
trisylable orient, is reduced to a disylable, by withholding a radical from the 
sound represented by i, and thereby dropping that sound as a distinct sylable. 
In the trisylable, i represents the sound of ee-l, and ee-\ by readily changing 
into the subtonic y-e, coalesces with the succeding tonic e-nd ; thus y taking 
the place of ee-l, joins itself to the subtonic n, to form the contracted sylable 
yent. The word orient, in correct pronunciation, is a true dactyl in quantity. I 
have set it as an iambus, not intending to defend the propriety of the change, 
but to form thereby, a regular iambic line, and to ilustrate one of the principles 
of English pronunciation. 



208 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

not be eminently shown on the abrupt shortness of the sylabic 
time here employed. With an accomplished speaker, the man- 
agement of this phrase would resemble the efforts of a musician 
of feeling and skill, on a limited instrument; and the different 
effect of his voice, on the above short sylables, and on indefinite 
quantities embracing the same states, would be like that of the 
inexpressive chattering of the harp or piano-forte, compared with 
the gliding resources and swayful concrete of intonation, from an 
Andante movement on the violoncello. The harsh and unyielding 
character of the short sylables in the above example, would be 
striking to a good reader, by its contrast with the preceding 
phraseology ; in which, the two inter je dives, the words name, 
profaned, whom, thy, creiv, army, fiends, and perhaps faitlr/Wj 
being all of indefinite time, and some of them emphaticj afford 
the most ample means, for a true and elegant intonation of the 
admirative and partly passionative states of mind they convey. 

Although abrupt and atonic elements produce many instances 
of short sylabic construction, that do not admit the extended 
forms of intonated expression^ yet most sentences contain the 
amount of prolongable sylables, which the state of mind may 
require. For it is not necessary, that every word should bear 
the full expression, conveyed by an extended intonation. One 
or two emphatic long-quantities, assisted by an accordant, though 
faint intonation, on the short and unemphatic sylablesj in a man- 
ner to be described hereafter^ will sufficiently convey the thought 
and passion embraced by the sentence. The indefinite sylable 
par in the following line has a variable quantity, which, without 
impropriety, may be doubled or more, in expressive utterance; 
and the same may be said of bleed. 

Pardon me thou bleeding piece of earth, 

That I am meek and gentle 'with these butchers. 

The circumstances of the scene in Julius Csesar, from which 
this is taken, inform us that Mark Antony's mental states, ex- 
pressed in the first line, are those of love, grief, and contrition; 
his revenge does not appear until the second. The former, it 
will be shown hereafter, call particularly for an extension of syl- 
abic time; and we here regard the words pardon and bleeding as 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 209 

emphatic, since they respectively picture the special object of the 
suppliant, and the disastrous assassination, that with self-reproach, 
he had delayed to punish. The accented sylables of these words 
freely receve the temporal prolongation ; and the employment of 
the required expression on their indefinite quantity, together with 
the assistance of the fainter intonation on the short and unac- 
cented sylables, directs the stream of that expression every where 
throughout the line. 

In the preceding frustrations, the Reader may now perceve 
some ground for our arrangement of sylables, according to their 
time, and in reference to the subject of expressive intonation; 
and may thereupon, admit the usefulness of its nomenclature, for 
the purposes of criticism and instruction. Yet there is another 
view to be taken of the effects of sylabic quantity. From the 
limited resources, and the necessarily generic character of lan- 
guage, the same word may in different sentences have a variation, 
so to speak, in its thouyhtive meaning. It is still more common 
to find the same word with a different reverentive or passionative 
expression, in its changeable combinations with other words. 
Some states of mind being only properly represented by a short 
and abrupt utterance; it follows that the shortness of a word or 
sylable, which on one occasion cannot denote the state of mind 
that requires a prolonged intonation* may on another, fulfil the 
purpose of forceful expression with its immutable quantity. It 
was shown in a former example, that the word fight was incapa- 
ble of the extension, there necessary for the full display of scorn. 
When Hamlet in the violent scene with Laertes saysj 

Why, I wiH fight with him upon this theme, 
Until my eyelids will no longer wagj 

the quick time of the whole sentence, is generically inclusive of 
the short time of its constituent sylables; and the immutable 
quantity of the word fight, admitting of abruptness and force, 
may fully denote the resolute rage of the Prince. 

The interjection is the only Part of Speech, employed exclu- 
sively for expression. Those common to all languages, consist 
of tonics, that freely admit of indefinite prolongation. Inter- 
jections are the instincts of the animal voice; and universally 



210 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

h^ve an extendible quantity required for passionative expression. 
Other parts of speech are sometimes the picture of thought, and 
sometimes of passion; and accommodated to this, there is a dif- 
ference in the time of sylables. Had words been invented as 
signs of interjective expression only, most of them would have 
been made with an extended voice. Yet as the tonic elements 
may be uttered either as long or as short quantities, and the ab- 
rupt and atonic, in certain positions, inconveniently produce a 
short quantity, it might be infered, that a language consisting 
entirely of tonic sounds, manageable both for longer and for 
shorter time, would better fulfil all the purposes of speech, than 
a language containing in part, elements of immutable quantity. 
But some states of mind are well represented by a short quan- 
tity, and a sudden issue of voice; and the abrupt elements are in 
certain positions, the best contrived means for producing that 
suddenness with the greatest variety and force.* And further, 
the atonies, with the exception of k, p, and £, though not prop- 
erly explosive, yet arrest the concrete progress of vocality, and 
allow a succeding tonic readily to take on the explosive open- 
ing. A language made up of sounds, having the varied char- 
acter of our tonic, subtonic, atonic, and abrupt elements, is there- 
fore well accommodated to the system of those expressive signs, 
ordained throughout all vocal creation. f 

* Those who delight in searching for undiscoverable things, may institute an 
inquiry; whether the abrupt elements derive their existence in speech, from the 
sudden utterance which anger and other animal passions instinctively assumed, 
at that nonentity of date, the origin of language. The only origin of language 
we know, is that of a new term, invented for a new thought, or for an unnamed 
physical fact. 

f This remark will scarcely be acceptable, to those who have always thought-; 
the greater the proportion of vowels to other elements, the greater the harmony, 
as it is called, of a language. And hence the sneer of Grecian scholarship at 
our barbarian cacophony ; if I may with a repugnant ear, thus lay an example 
of classical harmony on an English page. A language that would give to 
a, e, i, o, u, oi, and ou, an over- share of speech, would be very monotonous, 
and might perhaps remind us of its vowel-roots among the sub-animals: but in 
sound alone, it would interrupt fluency by an increase of hiatus, and be far 
from the harmonious. The term harmony, taken from other arts, has not a 
very descriptive meaning, when applied to language. Architecture, Music, 
Painting, and the Landscape, require, respectively, a unity in their varied dis- 
tribution of sound, color, form, and surface, and a variety in the unitizing power 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 211 

The employment of prolonged time, in the emphatic places of 
discourse, with a view to expressive intonation, seems never to 
have been thought of by ordinary writers; and has been so far 
overlooked in the schools, that it has never receved formal notice 
either in Rhetoric or Elocution. Dramatists, to whose taste and 
duty this remark is especially applicable, frequently neglect that 
proper adaptation of time and accent, which would afford an 
Actor the means of adding the finishing touches of his voice, to 
the vivid and forcible picture of thought and passion: for a ryth- 
mic style is more easily read and more forcibly declaimed than a 
loose and unjointed construction. 

The judicious use of the variations of quantity is the very life 
of elocution, and the right hand of dignity in the measure of 
poetry and prose. 

The human ear has conizance of two kinds of Proportion in 
the successions of sound: one embracing the relationship of its 
forces; the other of its duration. 

The First consists in the perception of unequal forces alter- 
nately successive. Of this we have many species, derived from 
the order of succession, or the number of the varied impulses; as 
exhibited in the following ilustration: where the first species 
shows a heavy impulse followed by a lighter one; the second, one 
heavy followed by two lighter; the third and fourth being re- 
spectively the reversed order of the other two. 



#© ®9 H© | @@© |@0 | ©@ ©# | ©@# @®@ 

The Second kind of proportion consists in the different dura- 
tion of two or more sounds. Of these the species are formed 

of contrast, to make up the engaging effects of their harmony: and each has 
its peculiar manner, if I may so speak, of Preparing, and Striking, and Resolv- 
ing its discords. What the literary critic calls harmony of language, is in 
reality a perception, not of consonant, but of different, impressions on the ear, 
and consists in the varied and agreeable successions and contrasts, of the forms 
of Force, Vocality and Time, with the intersections of pause; shown in English 
Composition, by a due apportionment of tonic, subtonic, and atonic elements, to 
mutable, immutable, and indefinite sylables, under the name of Rythmus. 



212 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

upon the relations of long and short, and from the direct or re- 
verse order of their differences, ilustrated in the following dia- 
gram; -where the first section is meant to represent a sound of 
given length, succeded by one of half or lesser fraction of its 
time ; the second shows a given length followed by two of shorter 
time ; the third and fourth being respectively the reverse in order, 
of the times of the first and second. 



The Reader can audibly ilustrate these schemes, by tonic sounds 
respectively, of different force, and duration. 

We can at present, reach no further in the investigation of this 
subject, than to knowj the measurement of these proportions is an 
agreeable exercise of the cultivated ear: and that we are more 
pleased with varied percussions, and varied durations of any 
mechanical sounds, of these or other symmetrical arrangements, 
than with one unvaried order of percussions and durations, ex- 
cept regular pauses are interposed between any given order of 
them ; as in the following diagram : where the space of a pause is 
represented between a series of two, and of three similar sounds. 



#© mm mm i mmm m^o ##@ 

As the voice has the power of this momentary percussion, and 
sylables have different degrees of duration, both of the above pro- 
portional forms of force and time may be applied to speech. The 
perception of the former is called Accent; that of the latter, 
Quantity. To one who has equally exercised his ear in these 
two kinds of measurement, the alternation of quantity is by far 
the most agreeable. For in the case of accent, no momentary 
sound or 'ictus' can be tunable; whereas a prolonged quantity 
is the essential of this agreeable tune. If then the perception of 
equal momentary accents, with pauses between the given aggre- 
gates, or of unequal momentary accents, alternately continued, is 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 213 

agreeable, the perception of a similar order of differing tunable 
quantities must be more so. Since the accentual function may be 
conjoined with quantity, by giving the abrupt ictus to the be- 
ginning of a prolonged sylable; and pauses may be interposed 
between aggregates that make up the succession of quantity. 

The above view regards only the accentual stress, or the time 
of sound, considered in itself. When quantity carries the in- 
tonation of the concrete, and thus becomes susceptible of vocal 
expression, its claims over accent are incalculable. 

The preceding remarks refer especially to the measure of verse : 
and a principal cause of the difference between a good and a bad 
reader therein, lies in a varied ability to attain an effective and 
elegant command over accent and quantity. 

The effect upon the ear, and the silent perception in the mind, 
of an agreeable variety in the successions of force and time, toge- 
ther with the division by pause, both in prose and verse, is called 
the Rythmus of Speech. 

It may be supposed, I allude to the Latin and Greek languages, 
when speaking of the quantity of verse. No-> it is to the English 
language, and to the partial though unsought use of quantity, at 
present prevailing in its measure : and I wish further to intimate 
a possibility of the future construction of its rythmus, on the sole 
basis of quantityj if the scholastic formalists of literature can be 
made to belevej the subject of ancient prosody has, for ages past, 
been exhausted; that the labors of wrangling compilation are 
inferior to the works of inventive improvement ; and that the in- 
vestigation of their own respective languages may assure to them 
the first births of originality^ and to their productions, if am- 
bitious of such things, the consequent undivided heritage of fame. 

About the time we are taught to measure the sylables of Homer 
and Virgil, by the relations of long and short, we are toldj our 
own tongue does not admit of the rythmus of quantity ; and that 
the prosody of the English as well as of other modern languages, 
is restricted to the use of the alternately strong and weak percus- 
sive accent. For the sake of the general principle in some im- 
portant matters, we do well, perhaps, in the present make-shift 
state of the human mind, to rely implicitly, for a time, on the 
authority of our teachers; but many find cause to regret the 



214 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

necessity of this confidence in particular instances. From the 
finely governed and varied quantities of Mrs. Siddons, I first 
learned, by beautiful and impressive demonstration, that the Eng- 
lish language possesses similar, if not equal resources, with the 
Greek and the Latin, in this department of the luxury of speech: 
and I found myself indebted to the Stage, for the opening of a 
source of poetical and oratorical pleasure, which the more virtu- 
ous pretences, and the hack-instruction of a College, either knew 
not or disregarded. While listening to the intonations of this 
surpassing Actress, I first felt a want of that elementary knowl- 
edge which would have enabled me to trace the ways of all her 
excelence. I could not however, avoid learning from her instinc- 
tive example, what the appointed elders over my education should 
have taught me; that one of the most important means of ex- 
pressive intonation, both in poetry and prose, consists in the 
extended time of sylabic utterance.* 

I do not here mean to sayj the quantity of English sylables 
has not been recognized by prosodians; or its beauty not been 
perceved by a good ear, wherever it has been well used by design, 
or accidentally, in English versification, and in the well adjusted 
sylabic arrangement of prose. I mean to convey a regret that 
its powers have been undervalued; that its elegant and dignified 
rythmic combination with accent and pause, have been overlooked 
in the modern affectation of the unftuent plainness of a coloquial 
style; and that it has been excluded from its place in elementary 
rhetorical instruction; thereby depriving the ear of one of its 
highest prerogatives of perception, in poetry and speech. 

We may very properly askj whether a classical scholar is 
gravely in earnest, or only vain of a college-livery, in declaring 

* I had the good fortune to hear this accomplished Actress, both in Edinburgh 
and London, while pursuing my medical studies, from eighteen hundred and 
nine, till eighteen hundred and eleven. On the first publication of this Work, 
in eighteen hundred and twenty-seven, it came into my mind^ though perhaps 
scarcely warranted, even by my admiration both here, and subsequently ex- 
pressed^ to send her a Copy: not however without sufficient warning, from 
some floating anticipation, that the book itself would be regarded by that pe- 
culiar Actor-ism of Actors, as an unwelcome, if not a presumptuous offering on 
the Theatric Altar of Anti-docility and Self-sufficient 'Genius.' I think it was 
then, and now after seven and twenty years, when I add this note, I more than 
think it is still so regarded. 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 215 

his enjoyment of Greek and Latin temporal rythums, while igno- 
rant of similar resources of neglected quantity in his own lan- 
guage. The Greeks and the Latins have left us their grammar, 
their written words, sylables, and elements; but our uncertainty 
of the true voice of these elements both individually and com- 
bined, has given rise, among modern scholars, to a difference in 
the pronunciation of them. Assuming the English mannerj the 
subject of Greek and Latin prosody may be resolved into its 
simple principles, and briefly described. Long sylables, or their 
temporal effects, are made in two ways: First, by the absolute 
duration of sylables, constituted like those we called indefinite : 
•Second, by the short time of those we called immutable and 
mutable, followed by a pause; the time of pronunciation added 
to the time of the pause, being equal to that of a long sylable. 
Short sylables are made by the short-timed pronunciation of in- 
definite sylables; or by immutable ones; and there is nothing in 
this account of Ancient quantity, not true of the English lan- 
guage. 

And further, not only are these general principles of sylabic 
construction the same in Greek, Latin, and English, but the 
very sylables themselves are common to these three languages ; 
nay, it may be said, to all languages. For we must bear in mindj 
there is in all languages, severally about the same number, both 
of vowels and consonants; that most of these elements them- 
selves are common to all; and that universally, no sylable ever 
includes more than one tonic, or vowel. The average number of 
audible consonants in every sylable being about three to one 
vowel, the law of permutation in this case would not furnish 
sylables enough to allow a different set, respectively to all the 
languages of past and present time : and it appears on com- 
parison, not sufficient to make a discoverable difference even be- 
tween two. For if the Reader will try every line of Homer, 
and Horace, he will find scarcely a sylable that does not form 
the whole, or part of some word in his own tongue; both as re- 
gards the elemental sounds, and the most exact coincidence of 
quantity. But it is on sylables alone, the rules of quantity are 
founded in every language. When therefore we deny that the 
English tongue admits of the temporal measure, we must come 



216 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

to the absurd conclusion, that identical sounds have in Greek 
type the most finished fitness for sylabic quantity, and in English 
have none at all.* 

These remarks refer principally to the time of sylables sepa- 
rately considered. There may be some differences in the several 
words of these languages, that render it easier to construct a 
rythmus of quantity in one than in another: we however, here 
speak of the admission of the system of quantity into English, 
and not of the comparative ease of its execution when adopted. 
There may be some facilities in the Greek for certain kinds of 
measure, arising out of the greater length of the generality of 
words in this language. The Greek may possess an advantage* 
over the English in some of the purposes of vocal expression and 
poetic quantity, by having a greater number of indefinite sylables, 
and by making less use of the abrupt elements, in positions that 
produce an immutable time. Greek sylables have, in general, 
fewer letters than English; and they more frequently end with a 
tonic element. 

The employment of quantity in English prose composition, 
sometimes accidentally produces the regular measure of Greek 
and Latin lines. If these occasional passages of temporal ryth- 
mus are well accommodated to the 'genius' of the English lan- 

* That this may not be regarded as an exaggerated conclusion, I add, from 
among a thousand authorities that might be quoted for the same purpose, the 
following substantial support to it. In the chapter on versification, in an English 
translation of Baron Bielfeld's ' Elements of Universal Erudition^' after many- 
remarks on the subject of ancient quantity and modern accent, which in nowise 
qualify the following extraordinary assertion, the author saysj 'Properly speak- 
ing, there are not, therefore, in modern languages, any sensible distinctions of long and 
short sylables, but many that are to be lightly passed over, and others on which 
a strong accent, or inflection of the voice, is to be placed.' This was written 
towards the close of the last century, by the 'Preceptor to a European Prince, 
and the Chancelor of all the Universities in the Prussian dominions.' Even 
before his time, some prosodians were not without the sense of hearing ; and 
though the existence of long and short sylables in modern languages has, 
since the epoch of his deep deafness, been generally admitted, yet it is still 
held to be impossible to make agreeable measure out of their relations. 

In candor, it should be statedj the Baron was a compiler; but such writers 
generally represent current opinions, and they always know more of indexes, 
popular books, and other men's notions, than is either known or coveted by 
those who 'observe, and read, and think, for themselves.' 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 217 

guage, it does not appear, why the studied contrivance of a poet 
mio-ht not use those existing quantities, in the continued course of 
verse. The following sentence has not the accentual form of any 
of our established meters, and is therefore, in its rythmus, purely 
English prose: Rome, in her downfall, blazoned the fame of bar- 
barian conquests. This sentence, independently of its impressive 
tonic sounds, with stress and time upon them, derives its char- 
acter, from the relative position of its long and short quantities ; 
which is exactly that of a Latin and of a Greek hexameter line, 
here shown by comparison. 

Dactyl Spondee Dactyl Dactyl Dactyl Spondee. 



Ev dsTte | ffs £wff | TTjpc a | prjporc \ Tztxpoq o | laroq. 

SI nihil | ex tant | a supe | ris placet | iirbe re | Hnqui. 

Rome in her | downfall | blazon' d the | fame of bar | barian | conquests. 

When this last sentence is read with its proper pauses, and 
with deliberate pronunciation, it corresponds in measure with the 
long and short times of the superscribed Latin and the Greek. 
Let us not however think it strange, for anticipation takes off the 
edge of surprise^ if a classic scholar should deny the identity of 
its temporal impression, with that of the colated lines. We are 
so little accustomed to regard English sylables in reference to 
their quantity, that it is difficult at first, to make it even a sub- 
ject of perception. Eor he who, according to vulgar persuasion 
belevesj there is an openness of the senses to first physical im- 
pressions, greater than that of the mind to new subjects of thought, 
plainly indicates that he has overlooked the ways and powers of 
both the senses and the mind; the senses having equally their 
ignorance, obstinacy, and prejudice; equally perceving what is 
familiar, and for a long time perceving no more. And perhaps 
when the powers of observation, and experimental reflection shall 
be directed to the mind, exclusively as a physical phenomenon 
the now contradistinguished functions of the senses and the mind 
will appear to be one and the same, in most of their ways and 
means. A cultivated and searching eye and ear are as rarely 
found, as a well disciplined and self-dependent mindj the latter 
15 



218 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

being produced by the former ; and a wise master, in human 
policy and morals, would not have more difficulty, where interest 
is not inimical, in effecting his designs of melioration, than an 
original observer in physical science would experience from the 
mass^ I was about to say of the Philosophic worldj upon solicit- 
ing an immediate assent to the reality of a manifest development 
of nature, or of some useful invention of art. It is a passive and 
an easy thing to look and to listen; but, with a purpose of inteli- 
gent inquiry, it is a labor of wisdom to see and to hear. 

In speaking of the indefinite sylables of the English language, 
it was saidj their time might be varied without deforming pro- 
nunciation; and we must recolect, that the abrupt elements, 
which generally terminate immutable sylables, have necessarily 
after the occlusion, a pause which allows them, with the addition 
of the time of that pause, to hold the place, and fulfil the function 
of a long one. With these materials for the construction of a 
temporal rythmus in English versification, nothing but deafness 
or prejudice prevents our perceving that its institution has been 
strongly prompted by nature, and is already half established in 
our poetry. We allow a reader full liberty over the quantity of 
sylables, for the sake of expression in speech; and song employs 
the widest ranges of time on tonic sounds; why should we refuse 
to the measure of verse, a less striking departure from the rules 
of common pronunciation. 

Mr. Sheridan, who does not overlook the existence of quantity 
in the English language, and its use in the expression of speech, 
but who nevertheless, maintains that the 'genius' of our tongue is 
exclusively disposed to the accentual measurej seems to ground 
his opinion on the special rules of Greek and Latin prosody, not 
being applicable to the cases of varying time in English pronun- 
ciation. He might as fairly have concluded, that the good Eng- 
lish style of his own lectures could not be as perspicuous as a 
Latin construction, because its arrangement is different from the 
appropriate inversions of the latter tongue. 

On this subject we have briefly to inquirej Has the English 
language long and short sylables ; and can these varying quanti- 
ties be arranged, to produce an agreeable rythmus? The answer 
is as brief. We have, equally with the Greeks and Romans, the 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 219 

long and short sylabic variation; and it requires some other argu- 
ment against the design of employing it in meter, than that de- 
rived from its having never yet been done. I would not choose 
to contend with him, who doubts that quantity necessarily belongs 
to every spoken language. The ancients not only recognized it 
in theirs, but availed themselves of its use in the creations of 
literary taste: and had Greek and Roman grammarians, in re- 
cording their special rules for the quantity of particular words, 
furnished us with a little of that philosophy of elemental and syl- 
abic sounds, which authorized, or produced the prosodial meters 
of their several languages, the moderns would in all probability, 
have seen its application to their own. 

If the Greeks did not derive the Knowledge and use of Quan- 
tity from Egypt and the East, there is some ground for the 
opinion, though this part of history is not altogether clear, that 
the restricted melodial character of their musicj its relation to 
songj the care therein taken to adjust the temporal correspondence 
of sylables to notesj together with its forming, as it is said, part 
of the liberal education of their orators, poets, and philosophers^ 
may have led to the close investigation of quantity, and to its 
employment by the later Greeks in their rythmic composition. 
We are not however justified in assuming its early use, at the date 
assigned to the Iliad; for the fabulous accounts of that Poem 
leave its original condition altogether unknown. We cannot 
therefore avoid beleving in its countless alterations through Hel- 
lenic vanity and pride; and that its first mingled measure of 
quantity and accent was subsequently changed to its present 
prosodial form. The modern extension of the science of music, 
to the principles and resources of the ingenius system of har- 
mony, has rendered it independent of the support of words; and 
the nice measurement of their time has been neglected, since the 
separation of the formerly united duties of the composer and the 
poet. 

I here offer the conjecture, but leave others to determine its 
truthj that the establishment of Greek rythmus on the relations 
of quantity did contribute, with other causes, to refine the char- 
acter of that language. We know what changes rhyme, and the 
accentual measure have made in the pronunciation of English; 



220 THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 

and even with the maturity of this language, there is cause to be- 
leve, that one means for enlarging the resources of its rythmus 
would be, to found its versification on the proportions of quan- 
tity. The occasional wants of poets would prompt them to change 
by license, many of our immutable sylables to indefinites; would 
lead to the elision of atonic or abrupt elements, from the end of 
sylables; and, by those broad excursions into thought which 
the common poet, together with the professional critic seems not 
to contemplate, is rarely disposed to encourage, and certainly 
never has accomplished;* our language might be invited towards 
that condition of sylabication which constitutes in part, the proso- 
dial superiority of the Greek. We know that the diaeresis and 
other licenses of Greek measure^ to say nothing of the dialects, 
which must have been widely diffused by their literature^ were 
constantly used for facilities in the arrangement of poetic quan- 
tity; and we might inquire whether the addition to its alphabet, 
of the Heta and Omega, was not a contribution to the demands 
of the temporal rythmus. 

Those who are in the habit of poetical composition, in the 
common accentual method, know how readily words of suitable 
accents are at the call of versification. Nay, the ready gather- 
ing, or fluency of the ear, if we may so call it, is in this matter 
so unfailing, that if the purpose of words be disregarded, there 
will be no hesitation in sorting such unmeaning discourse into any 
assumed accentual measure. I mean, that a person with a quick 
poetic ear and a free command of language, will find no difficulty 
in carrying on, for any duration, an extempore stressful rythmus 
of incoherent words or phrases : while he who is not in the prac- 
tice of metrical composition, even if aware of the required suc- 
cession of accents, would show as much delay in gathering words 
to fulfil his accentual purposes, as the former would, under the 
present state of the English ear, in aptly furnishing sylables for 
a temporal rythmus. Habit must have given to the Extemporiz- 
ing poets of Greece, if there could be or ever were such persons 
worth hearings the same elective affinity of ear, for the appro- 
priate quantity of their verses, as the similar class of Improvisa- 
tori in later Italy had for their required accents. At least two- 
thirds of the accented sylables of English words are indefinite in 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 221 

their timej and being allowably made either long or short, may be 
employed for a temporal rythmus. Until therefore, we have a 
larger experience in the use of quantity for modern versification, 
and until the English ear knows more of the effect of sylabic 
time than it does at present, we may be justified in considering 
any belief that a temporal measure is not applicable to modern 
languages, as altogether without foundation. 

It is true, the number of monosylables and disylables in our 
language excedes that of the Greek; and this may possibly render 
the former less fit than the latter, for the construction of certain 
systems of measure. On this ground it has been asserted that 
English words cannot be arranged in an agreeable dactylic suc- 
cession. This may be the case; yet we have too little sleight in 
the management of quantity, to justify a positive opinion on this 
point ; and the trials already made are not quite decisive. Habit 
is a forestalled and obstinate judge over existing institutions, and 
often pronounces unwisely upon their better substitutes. For we 
know that an anapestic measure, founded on a mixture of accent 
and quantity, and nearly identical in effect with the ancient full 
dactylic linej is well suited to the sylabic and verbal condition of 
our language; and that a very agreeable rythmus is produced by 
it. Admitting the above objection, it will not overrule the design 
to establish the forms of Iambic and Trochaic measure, now in 
use, on the basis of quantity alone.* 

Although English versification is avowedly founded on the 
accentual rythmus, entire lines are occasionally found, so satis- 
factorily fulfiling all the conditions of the temporal measure, that 

* Let us subjoin a word here, for our delusions and prejudices. The dactylic 
foot, and the anapestic fall with a similar effect upon the ear. The ancients 
used the former, occasionally, through whole lines, in themes of the highest 
dignity; and school-boys are taught that it richly and gravely fulfils its pur- 
pose. We use the anapestic foot for doggerel and burlesque, and beleve too, 
there is something in its light skip especially adapted to the familiar gayety of 
its modern poetic use. Let a deaf worshiper of antiquity and an English pro- 
sodist settle this matter between them; for, to serve a purpose, even the ex- 
tremes of contradiction are sometimes brought together. But on this, as on 
some other articles of the classical creed, they may be reduced to say, in the 
sole words by which the Yezedi of Persia who worship the devil, briefly ex- 
plained their faith, and pertinaciously defended it against a Christian mission- 
ary-; 'Thus it is.' 



000 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 



they might be judged by the revived poetical ear of a Greek. 
Such lines are however always preceded and followed by others, 
founded on the mingled relations of both quantity and accent. 
One who is skilled in the art of measuring the time of sylables, 
will, over this irregular rythmus, be shocked by the unexpected 
variation of its dissimilar impressions. An ear of delicate pro- 
sodial instinct, which yet makes no inquiry into its perceptions, 
often suffers this violence from English verse, but is ignorant 
of its cause. The poet of high endowment, who has at the same 
time a ready discrimination of quantity, with copious thought 
and language at command, instinctively avoids in composition, 
much of the evil of these conflicting systems. And one of the 
merits of a good reader of verse, consists in changing our metri- 
cal accents into conspicuous quantities, by extending the voice on 
all those sylables that have a stress in the measure, and will bear 
prolongation. 

From all that has been said on the comparative character of 
quantity and accent, and from the slow progress of modern nations 
in distinguishing the relations of the former, it would seemj of 
these two metrical impressions, accent is more easily recognized. 
Nor is it unwarrantable to infer, from the greater facility in ar- 
ranging an accentual measure, that the first rythmic essays of all 
nations were in this form of versification; and that the Greeks 
themselves passed through this rattling amusement of poetical 
infancy. There is no fact opposed to this inference; and I could 
as soon be persuadedj the first instrumental music of Otaheite, 
was not the clattering of shells, as that the earliest songs of 
Greece were measured by the nice relationships of time. Our 
language, though neither young nor heedless in all the ways of 
thought, is yet within its unformed childhood, for the graceful 
steps of quantity: and many of those who with earnest wishes, 
but ineffectual means, may have designed to advance and refine 
it; and who by taste and authority, were qualified to listen to 
living voices, with progressively meliorating influence upon themj 
have only wandered off with an unavailing ear, among the silent 
graves of language in the remote realms of antiquity. We all 
experience an august delight over the yet enduring works of the 
distant dead. There is scarcely a page of the poetic rythmus of 



THE TIME OF THE VOICE. 223 

the Greeks and the Romans, or a remaining trace of their plum- 
met and chisel, that might not make me forget, through intense 
contemplation, the mere seclusion of a prison. Yet I could as 
soon admit, that the modern zeal in freighting our homeward 
ships with the fragments of their templesj and the covetousness 
of nations, for the very purloined possession of their statuary, 
ought to preclude the future use of the marble of their ancient, or 
of yet unopened quarries, for the accomplishment of equal or 
transcending works of artj as that a just admiration of classic 
rythmus should prevent the endeavor to transfer to our own lan- 
guage, the admissible principles of Greek and Roman poetry. These 
remarks apply equally to the rythmus of Prose; for the agreeable 
arrangement of words, by accent and quantity is, as the Ancients 
interwove it with purity, propriety, and precision, one of the most 
elegant characteristics of the Fine or Esthetic art of Writing. But 
we now educate the ear and intelect away from all these good 
things, and down to the People; in the delusive expectation of a 
final Golden Age of morality and taste; and as a Public-School 
protection against trading and political dishonesty. 

I have offered the last few pages of this section, as no more 
than digressive and desultory remarks on a subject, intimately 
connected with the time of the voice, and with the cultivation of 
an important but neglected Mode of speech. 

The English language has an unbounded prospect before it. 
The unequaled millions of a great continent^ into whatever forms 
of Anarchy, or Despotism, they may be hereafter led by a be- 
sotting, a be- slaving, and for this world at least, a be-damning 
love of the Tyrannic Wrongs of Vested Rights, of State-bred jeal- 
osies, of Official ignorance and fraud, of paper credit, debt, rest- 
lessness, and popularity-* must, I say, through every national Up- 
heaving, and Engulfing, by the rage of avarice and ambition, still 
hold community in the wide and astonishing diffusion of one culti- 
vated and identical speech. Nor should we so far undervalue the 
emulative efforts of its future Scholars, as to suppose they will all 
merely regard with retrospective vanity, what has been done, and 
not extend their views to other and deeper resources of their art. 
But in looking forward to the establishment of English versifica- 
tion, on the basis of quantity, we must allow a limitation of the 



'224: THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 

poet's abundance, for the substituted excelence of his few but 
finished lines. Our measure is now drawn from the two different 
sources of accent and quantity. To construct a rythmus by quan- 
tity alone, will require more rejections, and a wider search in 
composition; more copiousness in the command of appropriate 
words; greater readiness and accuracy of ear, in measuring the 
relationships of time; and longer labor for the accomplishment of 
a shorter work. I am here speaking of the great results of the 
pen. Of these, as of all enduring human productions, labor joined 
with time, must be the efficient means; and must deservedly divide 
the merit of the achievement, with the wisdom that invoked their 
aid. Let him who could patiently devote a life, to laying-up store 
of 'goodly thoughts' for Paradise Lost, unravel the idler's fable 
about that 'inspiration,' of the so-called immortal works of man. 
Let them, who to energy and intelect have joined the strong body 
of laborious care, say, wherein consists the true life, and the em- 
balming of fame : let them touch the sleeve of early and volumin- 
ous authorship, and whisper one of the useful secrets, for accom- 
plishing more that may wisely instruct and endure, and less that 
with ambitious haste, may only teach itself to sadly failj and 
perish. 

■■ »> a q ©«««<«— 



SECTION XII. 

Of the Intonation at Pauses. 

The term Pause in elocution, is applied to an occasional silence 
in discourse, greater than the momentary rest between sylables. 

Pauses are used for the clearer, and more emphatic display of 
thought and passion, by separating certain words or aggregates 
of words from each other. 

The philosophy of grammar consistently with those two great 
Categories, Matter and Motion, has reduced all the words of uni- 
versal language to two corresponding classes: the Substantive, 
denoting Things that exist; and the Verb, denoting the various 



THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 225 

conditions of their Actions: all the other Parts of Speech being 
only specifications of the attributes of these things; and the 
predication of their actions, with regard to time, place, degree, 
manner, and all their possible relationships. Pauses divide into 
sections, the continued line of words which severally describe 
these existences and agencies, with their relationships: the re- 
stricted utterance, within these pauses, giving a sectional unity 
to the impression on the ear, and a clear perception to the mind, 
by their temporary limitation to a single subject of attention. 
The division of discourse, by means of this occasional rest, pre- 
vents the feebleness or confusion of impression, resulting from an 
unbroken movement of speech-; no less remarkably than the skilful 
disposition of color, and light, and space, significantly distinguish 
the pictured objects and figures of the canvas, from the unmeaning 
positions and actions of a chaos and a crowd. 

The sections of discourse thus separated by pauses, vary in 
extent from a single word, to a full member of a sentence. 
There may be some purposes of expression which require a slight 
pause even between sylables. It was shown that a full opening 
of the radical, must be preceded by an occlusion of the voice. 
Thus the accented sylable of the word at-taek being an immutable 
quantity, can receve a marked emphatic distinction, only by an 
abrupt explosion of the radical after a momentary pause. 

The times of the several pauses of discourse vary in duration, 
from the slight inter-sylabic rest, to the full separation of succes- 
sive paragraphs; the degrees being accommodated to the requisi- 
tions of the greater or less connection of thought, and to the 
peculiar demands of expression. 

All the parts of a connected discourse should both in subject 
and in structure bear some relation to each other. But these 
relations being severally nearer, or more remotej grammatical 
Points were invented to mark their varying degrees. The com- 
mon points however, very indefinitely effect their purposes in the 
art of reading. They are described in books of elementary in- 
struction, principally with reference to the time of pausing; and 
are addressed to the eye, as indications of grammatical structure. 
It is true, the symbols of interrogation, and exclamation are said 
to denote peculiarity of 'tone.' But as there is in these cases, 



226 THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 

no notice of the character, or degree of the vocal movements, the 
extreme generality of the statement affords neither preceptive nor 
practical guide to the ear. The full efficacy of Points should 
consist in directing the appropriate intonation at pauses, no less 
than in marking their temporal rests; and a just definition of the 
term Punctuation would perhaps, be as properly founded on the 
variety of effect, produced by the phrases of melody, as by a dif- 
ference in duration. Before Mr. Walker, no writer, far as I can 
ascertain, had formally taught the necessity of regarding the 
inflections of the voice, in the history of pauses. 

It is important with regard to an agreeable effect upon the 
ear, as well as to thought and expression, to apply the proper 
intonation at pauses. The phrases of melody have here a defi- 
nite meaning, and often mark a continuation or a completion of 
the thought, when the style and the temporal rest alone, would 
not to an auditor, be decisive. At the same time, the purpose of 
the pause being various, an appropriate intonation must by its 
corresponding changes, prevent the monotony, so common with 
most readers, at the grammatical divisions of discourse. 

The effect of Pause, in separating parts of discourse, by a sus- 
pension of the voice, will be ilustrated in the next section, on 
Grouping: and I now describe the successions of the various 
melody at the different places of rest. 

The triad of the cadence denotes a completion of the preceding 
thought, and is therefore inadmissible, except at a proper gram- 
matical period. It does not however follow that it must always 
be there applied; for in those forms of composition called loose 
sentences, and inverted periods, there are members with this com- 
plete and insulated meaning, to which an additional and related 
clause may be subjoined^ that consequently do not admit the 
downward terminating phrase. 

The rising tritone, by a movement directly contrary to that of 
the downward triad of the cadence, indicates the most immediate 
connection of thought or expression between parts of a sentence, 
separated by the time of the pause. The rising ditone carries on 
the thought in a diminished degree. The phrase of the monotone 
denotes a less connection between divided members; the falling 
ditone still less; and the downward tritone with rising concretes, 



THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 227 

and the downward concrete of the feeble cadence, produce a sus- 
pension of thought, without positively limiting its further contin- 
uation. As the triad of the cadence gives a maximum of distinc- 
tion^ among the parts of discourse, and utterly closes a sentence; 
the comparison of its downward intonation with the respective 
characters of the other phrases, may explain the causes of the 
effect of each, by showing their departure from the form and 
course of this terminative cadence. The degrees of connection 
between the members of a sentence are so various, and the opin- 
ions of readers may be so different, that I do not here pretend to 
assign the species of phrase to every kind of rhetorical pause. 
From present knowledge on this subject, I would say generally^ 
the intonation at some pauses may be varied, without exception- 
ably affecting either thought or expression; yet there are cases 
in which the species of phrase, from its exclusive adaptation to 
the character of the pause, is absolutely unalterable.* 

The foregoing remarks on the use of the phrases of melody, 
have not been made strictly in allusion to common grammatical 
punctuation. Writers on elocution have long since ascribed the 
faults of readers, in part, to the vague indication of these points, 
and to the distracting effect of the caprice of editors in using 
them. 

In the notation of the following lines, which describe the high- 
est thoughtful sublimity, and stedfast independencej the phrases 
of melody are applied with reference to only my own acceptation 

* Let us here suppose the intonative and the pausal character of Punctuation 
to be united. Then with six pausal symbols, each of its proper duration of rest, 
a comma might denote the phrase of the rising tritone ; a double or dicomma, 
the rising ditone or the monotone; a dash, if used, the monotone; a semicolon, 
the falling ditone; a colon, the falling tritone; and a period, the triad of the 
cadence. 

For mere system-making this might seem to be a pretty adaptation, to be 
taught in the schools; and through ages there might be no Observer to ?mteach 
it. For this is a picture of theory. But the fixed correspondence occurs only 
in the case of the full stop, and the triad of the cadence; the others as far as I 
observe, being under a vague rule^ that the falling phrases more generally go 
with the semicolon and colon; the rising with the comma and dicomma; and 
the monotone commonly with these. 

I therefore offer this note as a passing thought, hinting only at an inquiry 
into the practical use of this, or other similar proposal. 



228 THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 

of the purpose of the Author ; and to its distinct and appropriate 
vocal representation. I have presumed to differ, in the second 
and in the fifth line, from the punctuation of the London edition 
of Todd's Milton, from which the passage is taken. 

So spake the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found 

Among the faithless, faithful only he ; 

Among innumerable false, unmoved, 

Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, 

His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; 

Nor number, nor example, Avith him wrought 

To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, 

Though single. 

When the Reader looks upon the change of pauses I have made 
in the following notation, he must bear in mind, that whether his 
decision is favorable to it or otherwise, it may still ilustrate my 
view of the power and place of the phrases of melody. If this is 
accomplished, we need not dispute about the free-will variety, as 
it always will be, of tastes, in the particular application of these 
phrases. My purpose in this essay is to explain some of the un- 
told functions of the voice; not to contend with those who may 
on other points, know more than myself. 

In the use of the phrases of melody, at the pauses of dis- 
course, the phrase is to be applied to the last sylables preceding 
the pause. Nevertheless, for particular purposes of expression, 
the monotone may be continued on the succeding sylable. 

As this notation is designed to represent only the use of the 
phrases of melody at pauses, I have marked the whole current 
melody with the simple concrete; omitting waves of the second, 
and some moderate signs of expression, on the long quantities, 
which would be its proper intonation, as an example of that in- 
termediate and dignified style, between the thoughtive and the 
passionative, which we called the admirative, or reverentive. 

So spake the Se raph Ab diel; faith — ful found 



4^4-JL^. 



Wk_ 



THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 229 

A — mong the faith less. Faith ful on ly he. 



\*4 4 


4~ 4 


-4 


* 


A 


« 1 


I * 


v 


^ 1 


A mong in 


— nu— 


— me ra- 


ble 


false 


^ un— 


-moved, 


4-4 4 


4 


4 * 




4 







Un sha — ken, un se — duced, 


un ter — 


ri — 


— fied; 


£ 4 d 4 4 4 


-r 4 


w 


^r 





His loy — al ty he kept^ his 


love, 


his 


zeal. 


^444^4 4 


4- 


4 


H t~ 



Nor num her, nor ex am pie, with him wrought] 



V& 44 414 4 4 



To swerve 


from 


truth ; or 


change 


his 


con- 


-stant mind, 




4 


4-4- 


^pr 


4 


4 


«r «r 


«Br 





Though sin gle. 



The first pause at Abdiel is marked with a semicolon and a 
feeble cadence; for the preceding words, though here a complete 
sentence, do not necessarily produce the expectation of additional 
and connected meaning; for that expectation would require the 
monotone, or a rising phrase; and although the feeble cadence 
weakens for the moment, it does not dissolve the grammatical 
concord, between the members it separates. I have set the triad 



230 THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 

of the cadence and a period at faithless, not exclusively upon the 
right to assume the thought as here completed ; but with a view 
to prepare for the eminent display of the state of mind embraced 
in the remainder of the line. The editor has marked this place 
with a comma, and thus made the three succeding words, faithful 
only he, a dependent clause. I regard this clause, and on gram- 
matical ground, as an eliptical sentence^ and have given it the full 
close of the falling triad; thereby to promote the admirative ex- 
pression. These words elegantly reiterate the previous attribu- 
tion of faithfulness to Abdiel, with the further affirmation of his 
singleness in virtue. This definite and emphatic restriction of 
the individuality of the subject, is made with deep regret, over 
the rebellious rejection of truth, mingled with exultation that 
Abdiel alone has the undivided merit of defending it. There is 
a touch of expression in these words, that even with all other 
due means for an appropriate utterance, cannot, as it seems, be 
answera'bly displayedj unless they are separated from preceding 
and succeding clauses, by the marked distinctions of the limitary 
cadences, and their punctuative periods. If the word faithless 
should be read with what is called in the schools, a suspension of 
the voices which in their indefinite language means, avoiding a 
fallj the designed expression, as I regard it, of the succeding 
clause will be perverted or lost. Milton's fine ear, his vivid, and 
discriminating intelect, qualified him, under Nature's system of 
elocution, to be a good reader; and though he may not have been 
one by practice, I would with difficulty belevej he silently thought 
the passage Ave are here considering, with the close sequence, im- 
plied by the editor's comma and semicolon. 

The next pause at false, is preceded by the rising ditone. The 
structure of this member evidently creates expectancy, and the 
species of intonation indicates a continuative thought. I have 
here placed the dicomma to obviate a momentary, though possi- 
ble misapprehension of the noun-adjective, false, applied to the 
Faithlessj but here joined to the train of epithets distinguishing 
the Loyal Seraph. 

Of the four succeding pauses, each rests on a single word. 
The first three are noted with the monotone, to foretell the con- 
tinued progression of the eulogy: the fourth, at terrified, has the 



THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 231 

falling ditone, to denote a change, but not a close of thought. I 
have here placed a semicolon, though not perhaps according to its 
common use. In ordering these four pauses, it would vary the 
intonation, without affecting the meaning, to give the last two 
sylables of unseduced with a rising phrase, by putting se on the 
same radical line with un. The phrase at kept, is the rising ditone, 
with the dicomma, and is expectant ; for love and zeal being 
equally with loyalty, the objectives of kept, are thus held within 
the prospective eye of the grammatical meaning. For the three 
objectives being separated by the construction, the rising ditone 
at kept, prepares the expectant attention to bring them back into 
company on the ear, at a form of the cadence on zeal; and thus 
impresses on the auditor, the true syntax of the sentence. 

At zeal, marked by the editor with a semicolon, I have applied 
a period, and the second or Duad form of the cadence; for this, 
as just stated, throwing back love and zeal, as objectives to the 
verb kept, prevents their bearing forward, as if nominatives to 
some expected verb; which might not be avoided, by employing 
a semicolon at this place, with one of the continuative phrases 
of melody. We may account for the semicolon at zeal, by sup- 
posing the editor considered the following word nor, as a con- 
nective. Yet it certainly begins a new thought; and in regard 
both to its place and its immediate repetition, may be looked 
upon as only a poetical inversion, and a redundancy of negative. 
The remaining part of the notation contains examples of the 
principles just elucidated, and therefore needs no explanation. 

I have thus endeavored to fill up in part, a blank in elocution, 
by giving a definite description of the intonation to be joined 
with pauses ; and by ilustrating the manner of framing principles 
to direct the use of the several phrases of melody. Those who 
desire knowledge of the structure of sentences, for applying these 
principles, may consult books of rhetoric. Mr. Sheridan writes 
with his usual ability, on the subject of pause, and gives numer- 
ous exemplifications of its proper usej yet makes no analysis of that 
intonation which he may perhaps have joined with it, in the ac- 
complished practice of his own voice. Mr. Walker has also given 
a masterly treatise on this subject, in his Rhetorical Grammar. 
He wisely saw the practical utility of uniting with his view of the 



232 THE INTONATION AT PAUSES. 

temporal purpose of pause, an inquiry into the applicable forms 
of his inflections. In a philosophical view of the subject, his 
treatise contains no description of the functions of pitch, beyond 
the ancient general distinctions into rise, and fall, and turn. Not 
having the materials, for a specific discrimination and use of the 
phrases of melody, he was under the necessity of regarding his 
four general heads, as ultimate species, capable of no further sub- 
division: and hence, the limited, the indefinite, and the erroneous 
application of his. whole doctrine of Inflection at Pauses. Mr. 
Walker undertook the investigation of the subject of speech, 
without possessing a discriminating ear; without sufficient, if in- 
deed any familiarity with certain distinctions of sound, long 
established in music; and without seeming to keep in mind the 
means and end of philosophical inquiry. The example of the 
highest masters in natural science had taught, that all he should 
aim to accomplish would be, to separate by ear, the individual 
and intermingled constituents of speech; to name these indi- 
viduals; and to class them with known facts in the history of 
sound. But the most precise nomenclature, if not the most com- 
prehensive history of tunable sounds or, sound distinguished from 
the endless kinds of noise, is contained in the science of music: 
and Mr. Walker appears to have had too feeble or too limited a 
perception, or no perception at all, of its clear and abundant dis- 
tinctions, to enable him to recognize an identity, or analogy 
between the speaking voice, and the familiar phenomena of musi- 
cal sounds. 

Even though we might despair that future inquiry will teach 
us the structural cause of the vanishing movement, and of the 
orotund, and falsette voices^ it is certainly now within the ability 
of a disciplined and attentive ear, to percevej certain forms of 
sound supposed to be peculiar to the human voice, are similar to 
others which have been accurately measured and definitely named 
in the classifications of music; and consequently, that they might 
be designated by the same nomenclature, as far as the terms of 
music are applicable to the phenomena of speech. Such a method 
of investigation, with its satisfactory results, being the whole 
means and gains of a true and useful philosophy, we might as 
well belevej the Newtonian discoveries in optics, could have been 



THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 233 

effected, without a previous acquaintance with the laws of motion, 
the variety of colors, and the relations of mathematical quantityj 
as look for a description, and an available arrangement of the 
phenomena of the human voice, from one who is ignorant of the 
known distinctions of sound. 



SECTION XIII. 

Of the G-rouping of Speech. 

I have adopted a term from the art of painting, to designate 
the effect of pauses, and of certain uses of the voice, in uniting 
the related thoughts of discourse, and separating those which are 
unrelated to each other. 

The inversions of style, the intersections of expletives, and the 
wide separation of antecedents and relatives, allowed in poetry, 
may be sufficiently perspicuous, through the circumspection of the 
mind, and the advancing span of the eye, in the deliberate perusal 
of a sentence. But in listening to reading, or to speech, we can 
employ no scrutinizing hesitation: and though the instant memory 
may retrace to a certain limit, the intricacies of construction, the 
best discernment cannot always anticipate the meaning of a suc- 
ceding member, nor the character and position of its pause. Our 
higher poetry, in the contriving purpose of its eloquence, gives 
many instances of extreme involution of style : and the reader of 
English, is frequently obliged to employ other means, for exhibit- 
ing the true relationship of words, besides the simple current of 
utterance, that may be sufficient for the obvious syntax of a more 
familiar idiom. 

The following are some of the means, by which deviations from 
the simple construction of sentences maybe rendered, perspicuous 
in speech. v 

16 



234 THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 

The Clausal Limitation. Here the limitation is produced by 
pauses, only as divisional agents. 

The Phrases of melody ; already in part explained. 

A reduction of the pitch and the force of the voice; for which 
I use the term Abatement. 

A quickness of utterance ; here called the Flight of the voice. 

The Punctuative Reference : which by noticeable pauses, directs, 
or recalls attention to the syntax. And 

A means of indicating grammatical connection, that may be 
named the Emphatic Tie. 

I have summed up the several means here enumerated, under 
the generic term, Grouping; and have given each a specific 
namej to invite attention to the subject, by the proposal of a 
definite nomenclature. 

The most common form of grouping the connected parts or 
clauses of a sentence, under a given condition of the voice, is by 
its unbroken line, within the boundary of Pauses. The subject 
of this Clausal Limitation, though not thus named, is so exten- 
sively treated in the Art of Elocution, that I give here but a 
single instance of the power of the pause, in separating to a cer- 
tain degree, the thoughts of a sentence, and in giving the proper 
independency to each. Let us take, from the second book of 
Paradise Lost, the description of Death's advancing to meet 
Satan, on his arrival at the gates of Hell. 

Satan was now at hand and from his seat 
The monster moving onward came as fast 
With horrid strides. 

I have omitted the punctuation of these lines; and if read 
without a pause, they would not be absolutely destitute of mean- 
ing; for the auditor would perceve the general course of the 
action described. But in this case, there could be no expressive 
picture of the whole, through the connected individuality of its 
parts. Here are four clauses, or separate groups of thought, 
which should be indicated by three momentary rests. 

Satan was now at handj and from his seat 
The monster moving; onward came as fast^ 
With horrid strides. 



THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 235 

The first division, ending with at hand, gives notice of the 
rapid approach of Satan. The second represents the monster 
Death rising from his seat, and is insulated by a pause at moving. 
This division is properly separated from the third, onward came 
-as fast; for though the third describes the further movement of 
Death, and in this view might seem to forbid the separation, yet 
its principal aim is to show the speed of his progress, by compar- 
ing it with that of Satan; and this justifies the distinction, here 
made. The last division, with horrid strides, must be separated 
from the preceding ; for if read, onward came as fast with horrid 
strides, the immediate connection of the manner of movement with 
the declaration of the likeness between the time of it, in the two 
characters, might authorize the conclusion that Death was strid- 
ing, as fast as Satan was striding. Whereas the pause at fast, 
refers that manner of moving-onward to Death alonej agreeably 
to a previous part of the context, where Satan is described as 
moving on 'swift wings.' 

Some of the uses of the Phrases of melody were stated in the 
preceding section. I here offer one or two examples of the effect 
of an appropriate melody, in carrying on the thought, and in pro- 
ducing an immediate perception of grammatical relationship. 

On the other side, 
Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
Unterrified, and like a Comet burned, 
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge, 
In the arctic sky. 

Should the phrase of the falling ditone be used at the neces- 
sary comma-pause after burned, it will, to the ear, destroy the 
grammatical concord between the relative that and the antece- 
dent, comet. By applying a monotone to the two words in italics, 
the concord will be properly marked, notwithstanding the inter- 
vening pause at burned; the grouping power of the melody, in 
this case, counteracting the dividing agency of the pause. 

A similar instance of the power of the monotone, in effecting a 
close connection of the antecedent with the relative, is shown at 
the pause after unheard, in the following lines: 



236 THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 

First, Moloch, horrid king, besmeared with blood 
Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears; 
Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, 
Their children's cries unheard, that passed through fire 
To his grim idol. 

Let us take one more example of this principle of a grouping 
intonation : 

Art thou that traitor-angel, art thou he 

Who first broke peace in heaven, and faith' till then 

Unbroken ? 

In this passage the phrase, in heaven, is interposed between 
peace and faith, the two objectives of broke. That the syntactic 
connection between these words may be impressively shown, the 
slightest pause only is admissible after heaven; and a more con- 
spicuous one must be placed after faith. But the further expletive, 
till then unbroken, is immediately connected with faith; and the 
only means for representing this close relationship, in contraven- 
tion to the delay of the pause j so necessary, after faith, for 
another point of perspicuityj is by using the phrase of the rising 
ditone, or the monotone, on and faith. Thus the pause at this 
word, represents clearly the full government of the verb broken 
while the continuative phrase, either of a monotone or rising di- 
tone, at that pause, prevents its dissolving the connection of the 
previous meaning with the succeding expletive clause, till then 
unbroken. The pages of poetry are full of instances of phrase- 
ology that require the management of the voice here described. 
Milton and Shakspeare cannot be read well, without strict atten- 
tion to the apparent opposition between the purposes of the pause 
and of the thought, and to the Reconciling Power of the phrases 
of melody. 

A reduction of the Pitch, and Force of the voice being gen- 
erally combined in reading, I have, in this section, designated 
them colectively, by a single term, Abatement; which is in most 
cases, to be read in the diatonic melody. Its power of grouping 
together the related parts of a sentence, is exemplified by the 
well known utterance, in a parenthesis. 

I come now to speak of the perspicuity, to be given to a sen- 



THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 237 

tence, by the Flight of the voice. There is a familiar rule in 
elocution, which directs us to use a quickened utterance on com- 
mon expletive clauses. This function may be extended to other 
grammatical constructions. I give it here the importance of a 
name and an ilustration, from its affording assistant means for 
representing the meaning of some of those instances of close- 
trimmed phraseology and extreme inversion, occasionally found 
in the higher poetical composition. 

In the following example, the part requiring the flight of the 
voice is marked in italics. 

You and I have heard our fathers say^ 
There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd 
The eternal Devil to keep his state in Rome 
As easily, as a king. 

The word easily, here qualifies the verb brook'd; and one of 
the means for impressing this on the auditor, is by the rapid 
flight here directed. A London edition of Reed's Shakspeare, 
from which this passage is quoted, has a pause after Rome. As 
the purpose of the flight consists in allowing the shortest time 
between the utterance of related words, it would supply the omis- 
sion of this pause, to make a slight one after easily. This tends 
to prevent the adverb from passing as a qualification of keeping 
his state, which certainly cannot be the meaning of the author; 
but which on instant hearing, might otherwise, be mistaken for 
it, without the aid of the altered pause and the flight. This is 
not the place to speak of the nice points of emphasis and of 
melody, to be employed with the flight in this passage^ to give 
clearness and strength to its effect. 

Say first, for Heaven, hides nothing from thy view 
Nor the deep tract of Hell. 

To make it appear at once in speech, that the deep tract of 
hell is equally with heaven, a nominative to hides* the phrase of 
the monotone must be applied at view, with the flight of the voice 
on the portion marked in italics; and a pause set after heaven, 
and removed from view, where the editor has marked it. 

If the grammarian should raise objections to any of these pro- 



238 THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 

posed changes of punctuation, he must recur to the design of this 
section. We speak now of the means of addressing the ear; and 
its jealous demands sometimes require a separation of close gram- 
matical relations; and sometimes justify a neglect of the usual 
temporal rests, from the thought and expression in these cases 
being more obvious without them. The art of reading-well may 
compensate for voluntary faults on some points, by the accom- 
plishment of eminent effects on others. 

What we call the Punctuative Reference, or grouping, is an- 
other means for bringing together words, or clauses, separated 
by grammatical construction; as in the following example: 

Having the wisdom to foresee^ he took measures 
to prevent^ the disaster. 

Here the fact of the disaster should be immediately connected 
with the thought both of foreseeing, and preventing: yet by con- 
struction, foresee is separated from disaster; and thus, without a 
pause at prevent, the momentary attention to the immediate 
agency of this verb on disaster, might obscure the relation be- 
tween foresee and disaster. In this case, foresee might pass for 
an intransitive verb. But with the dicommas, the similar pauses 
at foresee, and prevent, by making them emphatic words, assign 
the former to its objective casej and connecting these words as 
fellow transitives, throw, by punctuative reference, their action 
together on disaster. 

Take another example, from Thomson's charming episode, of 
Lavinia. 

By solitude, and deep surrounding shades^ 
But more, by bashful modesty^ concealed. 

Here, without the directive grouping of the dicomma at shades, 
and at modesty, the picture of Thought might be obscured^ and 
we should perhaps overlook the beautiful contrast between the 
unconscious and closer self- concealment, and that of the pre- 
viously described humble and retired cottage in the vale. 

The following, from Cowper's picture of the Empress of Rus- 
sia's Palace of Ice, in his 'Winter Morning Walk,' may be taken 
as an instance under this head. 



THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 239 



Less worthy of applause^ though more admired, 
Because a novelty, the work of man, 
Imperial Mistress of the fur- clad E-uss^ 
Thy most magnificent and mighty freak, 
The wonder of the North. 

The four parenthetic phrases in these lines, between applause 
and Muss, produce a slight intricacyj which requires the dicomma 
and its rest at these words, to bring together, on the field of 
attention, the clause that precedes the former, and follows the lat- 
ter; and thus to make the impressive comparison between the 
works of nature, previously described, and this fantastic effort, in 
the works of art. 

I here remind the Reader that the use of the dicomma, in 
punctuative grouping is pointed out under the fourth head of our 
explanation of the purposes of this symboij in bounding a paren- 
thesis, and thus directing attention to the extremes of the in- 
cluded member; for the punctuative referencej as well as the 
emphatic tie to be presently explained, is one of the applications 
of the principle of parenthetic elocution. 

In the following sentence, the punctuative grouping may give 
clearness to the reading; but this cannot reconcile us to the awk- 
wardness of its disjointed syntax. 

After he was so fortunate as to save himself 
fromj he took especial care, never to fall 
again into^ the polluted stream of ambition. 

Much more might here be properly said on the classification of 
sentences, and on the time of pausing; but with the Principle 
here exemplified, further inquiry is left to the discrimination and 
taste of others. Both reading and speech abound with occasions 
for the use of this punctuative reference ; but care must be taken 
to avoid the affectation of its use, in grammatical arrangements, 
where the style may be rendered perspicuous without it. 

We have made a distinction between the Clausal limitation 
within the boundary of pauses, and this Punctuative grouping. 
The former keeps together sectional groups of connected thoughts; 
the latter brings together separated clauses and words, with their 
thoughts ; and both unite their influence, for the just and expres- 



240 THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 

sive elocution of those parentheses, usually bounded by the linear 
Dash. We have therefore dispensed with the use of this symbol; 
its purpose being effected, both in silent perusal and in speech, 
quite as efficaciously, and with greater neatness to the eye, by the 
dicomma; thus forming the punctuative reference; by which the 
meaning of the member preceding the first pause, is held over, 
or suspended for continuation, after the second. 

By the grouping of Emphasis or what is here called the Em- 
phatic Tie, I mean the application of stress, and perhaps in some 
cases, of vocality, quantity, and intonationj to words, not other- 
wise requiring distinction^ for the purpose of joining those words 
and thoughts which cannot, by any other means of vocal syntax, 
if we may so speak, be brought together or exhibited in their 
true grammatical connection. The agency of this form of group- 
ing, like that of the last, which we may now call the Punctuative 
Tie, is easily perceved, for related words however separated, are 
at once brought together in their real relationships, within the 
field of hearing, whenever they are raised into attractive import- 
ance, by pause, or by force or any other kind of emphasis. 

The following lines, from Collins' ' Ode on the Passions,' em- 
brace a construction, requiring the emphatic tie. 

When Cheerfulness, a Nymph of healthiest hue, 

Her bow across her shoulder flung, 

Her buskins gemni'd with morning dew, 

Blew an inspiring air^ that dale and thicket rung^ 

The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known. 

The last two lines have an embarrassing construction. The 
phrases inspiring air, and hunter s call are in apposition; but 
there intervenes a clause, that might make rung pass for an 
active verb, and thereby render call the objective to it. To show 
therefore, that by hunter s call the author means the inspiring 
air, previously mentioned, the words marked in italics should re- 
ceive emphatic stress. This is the best means for clearly impress- 
ing on the ear, that close relationship which is interrupted by the 
construction. 

This emphatic tie is often employed in combination with other 
means of grouping. In the several examples ilustrating the use 



THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 241 

of the phrases of melody, their influence will be assisted by apply- 
ing this connecting emphasis to comet and fires ; children s and 
passed ; peace and faith. In the examples of the flight, the re- 
lationships between the words brook' d and easily ; and between 
heaven hides nothing, and nor the deep tract of hell; and in the 
punctuative grouping, the reference of disaster to \>ot\\ foresee and 
prevent* of concealment to shades and modesty* and of mighty 
freak, to applause*, will be more manifest, by the additional use of 
the emphatic tie. 

It is sometimes necessary to employ all the means of grouping 
upon a single sentence, for connecting an irregular syntax, and 
supplying an elipsis to the ear. The extreme distortion of Eng- 
lish idiom in the following lines, must be excedingly perplexing 
to a reader; and, far as I perceve the meaning and the grammar, 
can be rendered somewhat less embarrassing, only by the use of 
all these means. The example is taken from the fourth book of 
Paradise Lost, at the end of Satan's address to the sun. 

Thus while he spake, each passion^ dimm'd his face 
Thrice chang'd with pale^ ire, envy, and despair; 
"Which marr'd his borrow'd visage, and betray'd 
Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld. 

Milton uses the word pale, here, and again near the close of his 
tenth book, as a substantive. Its common adjective-meaning tends 
to throw some confusion into the sentence. Ire, envy, and despair, 
are in apposition with passion, and are severally concordant with 
the distributive pronoun each. The only manner in which I can 
approximate towards a clear representation of this blamable piece 
of latinity, is by making a quick flight over the portion, dimm'd 
his face thrice changed with pale, and by an abatement thereon; 
by laying a strong emphasis on each passion, and on ire, envy, 
and despair, to mark the concord, by the emphatic tie ; by using 
the punctuative reference at passion and pale ; and by applying 
the dicomma, with the monotone or the rising ditone, to both 
these words. 

After all, it is a hard picture to paint, for a taste that will 
have true colors, well laid-on. Perhaps another hand, under the 
direction of our principles, may effect its expression by some more 
appropriate touch. 



242 THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 

In this and the preceding section, we have been more occupied 
with the audible means of marking the thoughtive meaning of dis- 
course, than with the signs of expression. But some meaning in 
language must always be embraced by what we distinctively called 
the passionative style. 

I would here point out to the classical scholar, a resemblance 
in the process and purpose of the punctuative reference, and of 
the emphatic tie, to that of the circumspect attention, always ex- 
ercised in construing a Latin sentence. The English language 
has few variable terminations of noun, pronoun, verb and adjec- 
tivej by which their concord and government might be instantly 
perceved, however the parts of speech might be in position dis- 
joined from each other. In English therefore, as in some other 
languages, the construction is indicated, principally by the proxi- 
mate, or what is called the natural, succession of words. 

The Latin language has in its varied grammatical forms, the 
means for instant connection of all its related parts: hence, the 
mind is able to make at once, a clear and exact picture of the 
meaning of discourse^ by arranging its proper order, how widely 
soever the words may be separated. The case of the adjective 
immediately joining itself to the case of the nounj the verb point- 
ing out its agent and its objectj the preposition, its subject^ thereby 
grammatically unite or group the individual parts of speech, how- 
ever scattered throughout the sentence. This dispersed position 
of related and self-uniting words, which is conspicuously used in 
the Latin language, is called in rhetoric, the figure of Hyperba- 
ton ; and the choice of arrangement allowed in the appropriate 
use of its various species, is a principal source of the impressive 
rythmus, vividness, and strength, in Latin construction. The at- 
tention of the Roman orator, and of his educated or even of his 
iliterate audience, must have been closely, but from habit almost 
unpercevedly, occupied in gathering, by grammatical relations 
alone, every word to its significant place on the field of the sen- 
tence. And this may be a cause, why punctuation, at least like 
ours, was unnecessary or disregarded both in Greek and Roman 
composition. The English language has not the adjusting con- 
cordance and government of the Ancient, grammar; and we are 
therefore, under its loosely connected verbal relations, obliged to 



THE GROUPING OF SPEECH. 243 

employ, among other means for perspicuity, beyond its common 
pointsj that of the emphatic tie, the flight, the pause, and the 
punctuative grouping, to draw the attention of the hearer to 
separated, though related words and clauses, where the syntax, 
without this construing by time and stress, might be intricate or 
uninteligible. 

I have thus endeavored to show a similarity, in principle, be- 
tween the Latin grammatical, and the English vocal methods of 
obviating any error or obscurity, incident to a hyperbatic syntax : 
the whole meaning of the sentence, being in one case, signified by 
the verbal signs of concord and government; and of some par- 
ticular meaning in the other, by vocally notifying the ear of those 
displaced relationships, not otherwise restorable, than through an 
impressive agency, respectively of the accent and the pause. 

In the present section, and in other parts of this essay, the 
exemplifications are chiefly extracted from two ilustrious Poetsj 
and from some of those who, directed by the same great Principles 
of their Art, are next to them in the bright brevity of the truth- 
ful and expressive Practice of it; since the boundless range of 
their expressive reflectionsj the arresting, but resolvable intricacy 
of their stylej the thoughtful bearing of their emphasisj together 
with the insignificance of scarcely a wordj afford every variety of 
thoughtive and passionative construction, for exercising the full- 
sufficient, and iluminating powers of the voice. And as the 
greater includes the less, I am persuaded, that should the princi- 
ples therein established be adopted by the Reader, he will have 
no great difficulty in applying them, to more simple styles of con- 
versation, of narrative, and of impassioned discourse, both in 
poetry and prose. Yet when drawn aside, from the perfection 
of Nature in the human voice, to eulogize the admirable things 
of intelect, which it is intended and ready to display; let me 
again repeat^ I have taken upon me, not the part of the Rheto- 
rician, but merely of a Physiologist of Speech. 



244 THE RISING OCTAVE. 



SECTION XIV. 
Of the Interval of the Rising Octave. 

In the foregoing sections, the effect of Pitch was described, 
only as it is heard in the radical and vanishing movement through 
the interval of a single tone. 

It was shown, under the head of the melody of simple Narra- 
tive style, that the vanish never rises above the interval of a 
tone ; and that changes of radical pitch, either upward or down- 
ward never excede the limits of this same interval. Now, such 
plain melody as then supposed is rarely found of long continu- 
ance ; but to avoid confusing the subject, I defer ed the notice of 
those variations of concrete and of discrete interval, which are 
occasionally interspersed throughout its current. The wider in- 
tervals of pitch used for Expression in the course of a diatonic 
melody, are now to be described. 

By the term rising Octave, whether concrete or discrete, ap- 
plied to speech, is meant the movement of the voice, from any 
assumed radical place, through higher parts of the scale, until it 
terminates in the eighth degree above that radical place. This 
interval is employed for interrogative expression; and for sur- 
prise, astonishment, and admiration, when they imply a degree of 
doubt or inquiry. It is further used, for the emphatic distinction 
of words. Nor is it limited to phrases, having the common gram- 
matical forms of a question; for even declaratory sentences are 
made interrogative by the use of this interval. 

Although the pitch in interrogation, and emphasis, may some- 
times rise both concretely and discretely, above the octave of the 
natural voice, and even into the falsettej still the octave is the 
widest interval of the speaking scale, technically regarded in this 
Work. It expresses therefore the most forcible degree of inter- 
rogation, and of emphasis; and is the passionative interval for 
questions accompanied with sneer, contempt, mirth, raillery, and 
the temper or triumph of peevish or indignant argument. 



THE RISING OCTAVE. 245 

From the time required in drawing-out the concrete interval of 
an octave, this form of interrogation can be executed conspicu- 
ously, only on a sylable of extended quantity. How then can 
the interrogative expression be given to a short and immutable 
sylable ? The means for effecting this, will be described hereafter, 
with particular reference to interrogative sentences. It may be 
here transiently ilustrated by the following notation : 



%^m 



In this diagram, after the first concrete rise of an octave, on 
a long sylablej a discrete change or skip is made from the line of 
its radical, to a line along the hight of its vanish. Now immuta- 
ble sylables, in an interrogative sentence, are transfered by this 
discrete or radical change, to a line of pitch at the summit of the 
concrete interrogative interval^ and discretely produce the expres- 
sive effect of that interval, though less remarkably than the in- 
definite sylables which pass through the same extent of the scale 
by the concrete rise. As there are more short and unaccented 
than long and accented sylables in discourse, the radical change 
here described contributes largely to the character of an inter- 
rogative intonation. The diagram shows, that after the radical 
pitch of a short quantity has assumed the summit-line of the 
octave, it procedes in the diatonic succession on that line, until 
the occurrence of an indefinite sylablej when the radical pitch 
descends, to form a new concrete rise of the octave. It appearsj 
the rule of intonation, laid down when describing the diatonic 
melody of simple narration, does not apply to the melody of in- 
terrogative sentences ; for these employ a more extended concrete 
interval, and a wider discrete transition in their changes of radical 
pitch. 

When an octave is used for the purpose of emphasis, the voice, 
after its concrete rise on the emphatic word, immediately descends 
to the original line of radical pitch, as in the following notation: 



246 THE RISING FIFTH. 



( 


* 4 * & 4 J 4 


4*4* 



But this subject of emphasis will be considered particularly, 
hereafter. 

The concrete rising octave and its radical change being em- 
ployed for very earnest interrogation, and for a high degree of 
expressive emphasis^ are of less frequent occurrence in speech, 
than the intervals of the fifth and the third. 



•►►© © &*** 



SECTION XV. 

Of the Interval of the Rising Fifth. 

The rising radical and vanishing Fifth, like that of the octave, 
is interrogative; and emphatically expresses wonder, admiration, 
and congenial states of mind, when they embrace a slight degree 
of inquiry or doubt. It has however, less of the smart inquisi- 
tiveness of this last interval; is the most common form of inter- 
rogative intonation; and without having the piercing force of the 
octave, may be equally energetic, and is always more dignified in 
its expression. The explanatory remarks in the last section, on 
the subject of the change of radical pitch in interrogation and 
emphasis, apply to the like uses of the fifth. For after the voice, 
in adapting itself to short quantities, has made a discrete change 
by radical pitch through the interval of a fifth, the succeding 
melody continues at its elevation, till again brought down for the 
purpose of a new concrete rise. And in like manner, after the 
use of the fifth for emphatic distinction on a single word, the 
pitch immediately returns to the original line of the current 
melody. 

From the preceding account of the intonation of the octave 



THE RISING THIRD. 247 

and of the fifth, we learn^ their effects are conizable under two 
different formsj the Concrete rise, and the Radical change; that 
the octave is impressed more remarkably on the ear; and that 
the distinction between the interrogative, and the emphatic use of 
these intervals, consists generally in the difference of the number 
of sylables, to which they are respectively applied. 

It was saidj the intonation of the octave, either by concrete or 
by radical pitch, is rarely employed; as a rise of eight degrees 
above the ordinary line of utterance carries most speakers into 
the falsette. And even with those in whom the rise might not 
excede the natural voicej the sudden ascent of radical pitch would 
in some cases be ludicrous, from its contrast with the current 
melody; would be liable to break into the falsette, if varied at its 
higher pitch; or would be beyond the limit of the speaker's skil- 
ful execution. These objections do not apply to an occasional 
skip of radical pitch through the ascent of the fifth; the varia- 
tion being less striking in contrast; and the interval of a fifth 
above the current melody, being generally within the range of 
the natural voice. 

Besides the above described uses of the octave and fifth, some 
canting forms of exclamation, and other familiar voices in com- 
mon life, are made on these intervals. They require no further 
notice. 



SECTION XVI. 

Of the Interval of the Rising Third. 

The rising Third, in both its concrete and discrete forms, like 
the two last named intervals, is used for interrogative expression, 
and for emphasis. But its degree in both these cases is less than 
that of the fifth. It is the sign of interrogation in its most 
moderate form; and conveys none of those states of mind which, 
jointly with the question, were allotted to those other movements. 

Besides the exceptions to the rule of the plain diatonic melody, 



248 THE RISING THIRD. 

by an occasional use of the octave and fifth, it must now be added, 
that the general current of the tone is further varied, by the in- 
troduction of the concrete third, and its radical change. It 
occurs more frequently than the two former; for, although more 
rarely than the fifth, as an interrogative, it is a common form of 
moderate emphatic intonation. In describing the phrases of 
melody, it was said, the rising tritone or upward succession of 
three radicals on as many sylables, is occasionally employed. 
On the scale, three radical places contain the interval of a third; 
it is therefore the space or interval occupied by the constituents 
of a tritone, rejecting the vanish of the last, that makes the proper 
rising concrete third: yet this concrete interrogative is more im- 
pressive than the discrete rise of the successive radicals of the 
tritone; for if the words, Gro you therej in grammar, equally a 
command and a questionj be uttered in the phrase of the rising 
tritone, with a downward vanish on each of its sylables, it will 
have the character of an imperative sentence. Should the first 
word rise concretely a third, through the space embraced by the 
radicals of the tritone, and the last two be continued in their 
rising radical succession; the effect will be interrogative, even if 
the last two should bear the downward vanish. The same will be 
the effect when the second word has the concrete, and the last the 
radical change; or, when the first and second have the common 
diatonic melody, and the last alone, the concrete rise; showing 
the marked difference in effect between the concrete rise of a 
third, and a rise through three proximate radicals of the same 
extent. 

There is a form of replication in common speech especially 
used by the Scots, consisting of a repetition of the affirmative 
yes or aye, in the rising third; and while the words seem to pay 
the courtesy of assent, the interrogative character of the intona- 
tion still insinuates the hesitation of doubt or surprise. Should 
the interrogative assent, implied by these words be of unusual 
energy, the expression will assume the form of the fifth, or 
octave. 

When the Reader has acquired the prefatory knowledge, ne- 
cessary for the full comprehension of the subject of Emphasis^ 
it will be definitely explained, in what manner, and on what 



THE RISING THIRD. 249 

occasions the octave, fifth, and third, are employed in this im- 
portant function of correct and impressive speech. But as the 
emphasis given to prominent words of concessive, conditional, and 
hypothetical sentences, carries with it, the latent character of an 
interrogatory, its application may properly be ilustrated here. 
The following examples of conditionality and concession call for 
one of the wider rising intervals, on the words marked in italics: 

Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, 

Proud limitary Cherub ! but ere then, \ 

Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 

From my prevailing arm, though Heaven's king 

Ride on thy wings. 

So in the hypothesis of the following sentence: 

If I must contend, said he, i 
Best with the best, the sender, not the sent. 

And the same with the exceptive phrase marked in these lines: 

The undaunted fiend what this might be, admired; 
Admired, not fear'd. God and his Son except, 
Created thing naught valued he, nor shunned. 

It is unnecessary to say, which of the wider intervals is to be 
set respectively, on the strong words of these examples. The 
citations were made, to show that the rising third, fifth, or octave, 
may be used on the emphatic sylables of such sentences. 

The interval of the minor third, as we learned in the first sec- 
tion, consists of one tone and a half. It has a plaintive expres- 
sion, but is not, as far as I have observed, employed in speech for 
any of those purposes of interrogation, conditionality, or conces- 
sion, which are here ascribed to the major third. 

It may perhaps be useful in this place, for the Reader to take 
a retrospect over the subject of melody, as it has so far been de- 
scribed ; and to look upon it as consisting of the diatonic phrases 
formerly enumeratedj varied for the purposes of interrogation, and 
of emphasis, by the occasional introduction of the wider rising in- 
tervals of the octave, fifth, and third. In speaking of the melody 
of simple narrative, the radical changes of that style were reduced 
11 



250 THE INTONATION 

to seven elementary phrases. It may be thought; the further use 
of these wider intervals, in the transitions of radical pitch, justifies 
an additional nomenclature, for the phrases employed in expres- 
sion. It does; and the Phrases of the Eighth, the Fifth, and the 
Third, when the transition is made by radical skip, either in an 
upward or downward direction, are the terms for designating, if 
necessary, these new forms of melodial progression in speech. 



SECTION XVII. 

Of the Intonation of Interrogative Sentences. 

Having assigned an interrogative expression to the rising- 
octave, fifth, and third, I defer for a moment, the history of the re- 
maining forms of pitch, to describe the manner of employing those 
intervals in the course of an interrogative sentence ; and thereby 
to learn, how they are related both to its current melody, and to 
its cadence. 

With a view to exhibit the striking effect of the interrogative 
intervals, let us take the following declaratory or assertive sen- 
tence, as contradistinguished from the grammatical constructions 
that generally indicate a question: 

Give Brutus a statue with his ancestors. 

This sentence denotes an intention to honor the patriot; is im- 
perative in its purpose ; and this purpose is expressed by a down- 
ward movement on every sylable. But if the versatile plebean 
should the next moment have a new light of discernment or ca- 
price, he might affect to refuse the honorary tribute, by repeating 
the very words of the decree, with the sneering intonation of a 

question : 

Give Brutus a statue with his ancestors? 

The difference of the state of mind or the meaning, in these 
two instances would be perceptible to every hearer: nor could 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 251 

the altered intention of the speaker, in the last case be mistaken. 
The ironical character or effect of the line when thus read, pro- 
cedes from each of its sylables having the rising interval of a 
fifth, or octave, or the inverted waves of these intervals, according 
to the energy of the sneer; and it shows the power of that rise, 
in changing an imperative into an interrogative sentence. In 
this way only, by the concrete rise or the radical skip of a fifth 
or octave, or their inverted wave, on every sylable, will the ques- 
tion be fully expressed; for should the movement be employed 
upon every word except the last, and this be uttered with the 
diatonic triad, the interrogation will be lost. If the interroga- 
tive interval be given only to the last word, it will in some de- 
gree, denote an inquiry; but much less forcibly than when the 
intonation is applied to every sylable. Besides ilustrating the 
interrogative intonation, the preceding example likwise shows 
the effect of the wider intervals, when compared with that of the 
simple concrete of the tone or second, in a diatonic melody. The 
manner of applying these wider intervals, for interrogation, will 
be presently described. 

Before we enter on this subject, the purposes of elementary in- 
struction call for a notice of the varied extent of the use of inter- 
rogative expression; since some sentences require it on every 
sylable; others fully convey the question by partial application. 
To be more definite: 

By Thorough Interrogative Expression, I meanj a use of the 
intended interval on every sylable. 

By Partial Interrogative Expression^ a use of the interval on 
one, or on a few; others, particularly those at the close, having 
the melody of plain declarative discourse. For brevity, and for 
substitutive terms, these distinctions may be called, the thorough 
and the partial interrogation, or intonation, or expression. 

The proper reading of the questions, in the following examples, 
may ilustrate the meaning of the above named divisions. When 
Clarence enters guarded, at the end of the opening soliloquy of 
King Richard III, Gloster thus addresses him-; 

Brother, good day ! what means this armed guard 
That waits upon your Grace? 



252 THE INTONATION 

Here the interrogative intonation is heard only on the clause, 
what means this armed guard ; the rest of the sentence has both 
the current and cadence of the diatonic melody. 

When the Queen, in the third scene of the first act, says', 

By Heaven, I will acquaint, his Majesty 
Of those gross taunts I often have endured : 

Gloster retortsj 

Threat you me with telling of the King? 

This proud and angry question must bear the interrogative 
intonation throughout its current, with the rising interval at the 
close, or it will not have the required expression. 

As the characteristic intonation in each of these questions 
cannot be interchangeably transfered, and as every question 
makes a thorough, or a restricted use of the interrogative inter- 
valj it would seem, there must be some instinctive principles to 
direct a good reader, in designating the places and the limits of 
its application. I propose in the present section to treat of inter- 
rogative sentences; and to set-forth some of the principles that 
appear to govern their intonation. 

To state and arrange clearly, the causes that seem to direct the 
Thorough and the Partial use of interrogative expression we must 
consider both the Grammatical Structure of the question, and the 
state of Mind, or the Meaning or Purpose which it conveys. 

Sentences are employed interrogatively, under five grammatical 
forms. 

First. They are constructed assertively, but are made inter- 
rogative by Intonation. 

You say, a People is only Sovereign, when freed from 
the restraints of Morals and Law? 

Let us call thesej Assertive or Declaratory questions. They 
sometimes have an ironical turn, for their intonation 'speaks 
otherwise than what the words declare.' 

Second. They are formed by reversing the declaratory posi- 
tion of the nominative, with regard to the verb and its auxiliary. 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 253 

Can a Sovereign People exist without Morals and Law ? 

Let these be called Common questions. 

Third. By joining a pronoun to the common question. 

What Morals and Law can control its Sovereign Will ? 

Theses we call Pronominal. 

Fourth. By joining an adverb to the common question. 

Where shall this question be determined ? 

Theses Adverbial. 

Fifth., By joining a negative severally to the common, the 
pronominal, and the adverbial. 

Have not the United States of America begun the experiment? 

These j Negative questions. 

Of the Purpose or Meaning, conveyed in a question, we make 
also five divisions, which will be ilustrated as we procede. 

First. A question may be made with an uncertainty, or with an 
entire ignorance in the interrogator on the subject of the question. 
This is a question of Real Inquiry. 

Second. The interrogator may from colateral circumstances, 
either intimated or declared, have some knowledge, or a reserva- 
tion of belief, on what is verbally the point of the question. Call 
this a question of Assumed Belief. Both these questions may be 
made in either the second, third, or fourth grammatical forms. 

Third. But a question with the negative construction, is made 
as a demand for an according answer; and when furnished with 
colateral grounds of belief, is sometimes put with the confidence 
of a triumphant assertion. We may call this the Triumphant 
Inquiry, or Belief. 

Fourth. Questions may be addressed with various degrees of 
Force; of which we make three kindsj the moderate,, the earnest, 
and the vehement: but as curious, and wayward ignorance is 
always subject to the excited sway of self-willj questions may em- 



254 THE INTONATION 

brace surprise, anger, scorn, contempt, with every kind and degree 
of passion. 

Fifth. In connection with claims to truth and justice, a ques- 
tion is sometimes an appeal to the candor of an opponent, or to 
the favor of an audience. This is an Appealing question. To it 
may be added the Argumentative or Conclusive, the Exclamatory, 
and the Imperative. As these require a downward intonation, 
they will be arranged and described under a future section, on 
Exclamatory sentences. 

Questions vary in extent, from the fulness of the common sen- 
tence, to the eliptical brevity of a monosylabic word; as shown 
in the last section on the interrogative use of even the affirmative, 
yes. A similar question may be made of no: for notwithstand- 
ing this declaratory negative is in verbal meaning, always the 
same, yet the rising intonation, by changing that negative to 
a question, overrules its meaning or throws it into doubt. 

Upon the subject of Thorough, and Partial intonation, in the 
various Grammatical forms of questions and their meanings, above 
mentioned, I here offer some general rules; or furnish approxima- 
tions towards them, for the assistance of future research. 

It may be laid down as a rule, almost without exception, that 
where an interrogative sentence has the Assertive construction, it 
requires the Thorough expression. In addition to an example of 
this case given in a preceding page, let us take an instance from 
Coriolanus, where the same words are used as a declaratory, and 
as an interrogative phrase. In the fifth scene of the fourth act, 
the servant of Aufidius says to Coriolanusj 

Where dwellest thou? 

Cor. Under the canopy. 

Ser. Under the canopy? 

Cor. Ay. 

Ser. Where's that? 

Cor. In the city of kites and crows. 

Ser. In the city of kites and crows? 

The replications here set in italics should be read with an inter- 
rogative interval on every sylable; and the cause seems to be this. 
All assertive sentences when put as questions are eliptical; since 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 255 

they imply and should properly include some grammatical phrase 
of interrogation. Thus the speaker here means, either with in- 
quisitive doubt as to the wordsj did you say, under the canopy? 
or with real inquiry as to the placej where is, under the canopy? 
And so of the other instance. But the grammatical phrase of 
the question being omitted, it is necessary to supply the defect of 
the elipsis, by the use of a thorough interrogative intonation. For 
when the interrogative interval is applied exclusively to one word 
or sylable except the last, it constitutes only a declaration, with 
an intonated emphasis on the word so marked. When set on 
many sylables, or on all except one, it does produce a degree of 
interrogation, yet quite unsatisfactory to the demands of the 
mind, and of the ear. Should the interrogative interval be on 
the last, with the other words in the diatonic melody, the intona- 
tion will fall short of the meaning of the phrase, if it would not 
really misrepresent it; as the unexpected rise at the close, in- 
stead of the consistent termination by the diatonic cadence, would 
produce an anomaly of utterance irreducible, by me at least, to 
any definite character of expression. 

A declarative question is then an eliptical sentence, from which 
the grammatical phrase having been omitted, the question must be 
signified by an interrogative intonation on every w r ord. There is 
however, a kind of assertive sentence, which affirms by the word, 
yet questions with such a slight insinuation of doubt, that it calls 
for only the partial intonation ; as in the following of Hamlet to 
the Player : 

You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or 
sixteen lines, which I would set down and insert in't? 

Here the words are declaratory; and even affirm the power of 
the subject.; yet with moderately rising intervals on only the 
phrase, you could for a need* its declaratory meaning is over- 
ruled, and the rest of the sentence, though properly diatonic, 
takes the interrogative character from this partial intonation. 
Such cases deserve a name for themselves, and are not to be 
classed with declarative questions, which are purely thorough 
interrogatives. 

In a sentence constructed by the nominative placed after the 



256 THE INTONATION 

verb, or between the verb and auxiliary, forming what we call a 
Common question;; either the Partial or the Thorough interro- 
gative is employed. I need not ilustrate the varieties of this case; 
the Reader can readily recur to examples under it, in which the 
intonation must be determined by the meaning and force of the 
question, and by the sentence, whether short and simple, or ex- 
tended and complex. 

A sentence constructed with the interrogative pronouns or 
adverbs, constituting what we call Pronominal and Adverbial 
questionsj and embracing none of those conditions which require 
the Thorough expression, commonly appears under the Partial 
form ; as in the following examples : 

Who hath descried the number of the traitors ? 
How came these things to pass ? 
What sum owes he the Jew ? 

These lines do not severally require a thorough expression; 
for the question is here sufficiently marked, when the interro- 
gative interval is applied on portions only of the sentence, par- 
ticularly on its emphatic words. The ground of the partial 
application may be this. In adverbial and pronominal construc- 
tions, there is no question about the existence or the agency of 
the subject of inquiry; and thus its part in the sentence does not 
call for an interrogative expression. The uncertainty is in the 
relation of that existence, to person, time, place, manner, num- 
ber, and degree; and on these only, the interrogative intervals 
are required. In the first example the existence of the traitors 
is admitted; the question refering only to their number, and to 
the person who had seen them. In the second, the existence of 
the things, and their agency in the event, is admitted ; the ques- 
tion beingj in what manner, or how they came to pass. The 
third admits the debt; and questions only its amount. Some of 
the exceptions to the generality of this rule will be mentioned, in 
speaking of the varying state of mind or purpose in an interro- 
gative phrase, and of its final emphatic sylable. 

Common, pronominal, and adverbial questions are made directly 
to the point of inquiry, or indirectly by a negative, to its oppo- 
site; as in the following common question^ Will he — come? 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 257 

And in the negativej Will he — not come? The dash being 
merely to mark the difference to the eye. Here the first ques- 
tion is directly to the point of his coming. The second is indi- 
rect, or to the point of his not coming. The condition is there- 
fore not the same in the two cases. One is a real inquiry, made 
in ignorance whether or not, he will come ; and without hope or 
fear that he may. The other is prompted by the assumed hope, 
that he will come; and thereupon, anxiously regarding, and fear- 
ing the negative side of the condition only, asks, if this negative 
is the fact. Is it — that he will not come? or by elipsis, and by 
transposition, Will he — not come? 

If we take adverbial and pronominal questions^ the principle 
of an assumed belief, under their negative form, will be perhaps 
more apparent. What did he — not dare? How did he — not 
deceve? Who is — not covetous? These cases clearly indicate 
on the part of the interrogator, the belief that the subjects of 
the first two did severally dare, and deceve in all things; and in 
the last, that all men are covetous. Should these questions be 
made directly to their interrogative points, asj What did he dare? 
their several real inquiries would call for a thorough interroga- 
tion; but as negatives, and made indirectly to these points, they 
may take the partial expression, or even the downward interval 
and the direct wave. 

A Negative question has the Thorough or the Partial intona- 
tion, according to its meaning and force ; and it will be presently 
shownj the negative question sometimes carries the assumed be- 
lief to that positive degree which requires the downward into- 
nation. 

When a sentence, besides the Point of the question, has addi- 
tional members or clauses which contain an address, or assertions, 
or expletives, or reference to causes^ the expression assumes the 
partial form; as in the following instances 

Of address: 

Why with some little train, my lord of Buckingham ? 

Of assertion: 

Why did you laugh then, when I said, Man delights not me ? 



258 THE INTONATION 

Of expletive: 



Of cause: 



What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecubc 
That he should weep for her? 



What of his heart perceve you in his face, 
By any likelihood he show'd to day ? 



The right of the rule seems to be, that the additional clauses, 
though modifying the leading point of the question, yet do not, 
in their separable membership, include an interrogation; which 
the portion of the sentence marked in italics, and here called the 
point of the question, does grammatically convey. 

When questions of a moderate degree are connected by con- 
junctions, or follow in series, without this connection^ it is not 
necessary that each question should severally have the extent of 
interrogative expression, required in its solitary use. 

Give me thy hand. Thus high, by thy advice, 
And thy assistance, is king Richard seated: 
But shall we wear these glories for a day ? 
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them? 



Are you call'd forth from out a world of men, 
To slay the innocent? What is my offence? 
Where is the evidence that doth accuse me? 
What lawful quest have given their verdict up 
Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced 
The bitter sentence of poor Clarence's death? 

Should this rule not be contravened by conditions requiring 
the thorough expression^ the question in such instances as the 
above, is sometimes sufficiently marked, if each of the several 
members of the series has an interrogative interval only on a sin- 
gle word; and this reduces the case, in point of expression, to an 
ordinary sentence, having an emphatic word, so marked by the 
given interval. Perhaps the ground of the rule is, that the mind 
or ear of the auditor being, so to speak, in the humor of the 
question, the interrogation is sufficiently indicated by the gram- 
matical structure. 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 259 

With regard to the State of mind, Meaning, or Purpose con- 
veyed by a question, some notable circumstances govern the use 
of intonation. 

If a question is prompted by the ignorance or uncertainty of 
the speaker, and contains a Real inquiry, it generally calls for 
the thorough expression ; which must consequently in many in- 
stances, overrule the partial intonation otherwise appropriate to 
pronominal, adverbial, and common questions; to questions in 
conjunction, and in series; and should they embrace surprise, 
even to those of negative construction; as in the following exam- 
ples, where the lines in italics, including questions of real in- 
quiryj the last being prompted by surprise^ call for the thorough 
interrogation. 

Hamlet. Dost thou hear me, old friend? 

Can you play the murder of Gonzago ? 



Hamlet. Have you a daughter? 
Polonius. I have, my lord. 



Prospero. Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and 

A Prince of power. 
Miranda. Sir, are not you my father ? 

Although in the stated form of this rule, only a general effect 
is ascribed to it, yet when the question has much earnestness, its 
bearing is almost without exception. 

Those questions, in which the interrogator intimates some knowl- 
edge on the subject of his inquiry, and which were termed ques- 
tions of assumed belief, take, according to the degree of force, 
either the partial or the thorough intonation. Under this head, 
even some declarative questions contain so much of an absolute 
assertion, that they require the slightest degree of interrogative 
expression; as in the following, of Hamlet to Polonius: 

My lord, you play' d once in the University, you say? 

As there is some doubt in this sentence, it is properly marked 
as a question ; yet the colateral phrase, you say, refers to an 
event known before to the interrogator, and makes it one of be- 
lief: this state of mind therefore, requires an interrogation only 
on the words in italics. 



2C0 THE INTONATION 

Of the Negative question, which under its assumed belief, 
seems to anticipate, or at least to hope for, an according answerj 
we find an ilustration in Shylock's noted parallel between the Jew 
and the Christian, with his earnest resolve upon revenge. 

He hath disgraced me, and hindered me of half a million ; laughed at my 
losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled 
my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew: Hath 
not a Jew eyes ? Hath not a Jew hands ? Organs ? Dimensions ? Senses ? Affec- 
tions ? Passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject 
to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the 
same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? 
If you tickle us, do we not laugh ? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you 
wrong us, shall we not revenge ? If we are like you in the rest, we will resem- 
ble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility ? Revenge. 
If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example ? 
Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me, I will execute; and it shall go hard, 
but I will better the instruction. 

Here the questions begin withj What's Ms reason f As the 
answer is made by the inquirer himself, the question is to him 
rather one of belief, or of appeal, than a real inquiry ; and is to 
be made by rising intervals, on the first three sylables, with a 
downward interval on son; thus constituting a partial interroga- 
tion. The answer is a full sentence, and serves to ilustrate the 
expression of the triad of the cadence. This triad is always set 
at a full period. When therefore Shylock, to his own question 
responds, and assigns the reason, I am a Jew* giving a downward 
interval to 7, and the falling triad of the cadence to the three re- 
maining sylablesj he joins to the close of the meaning by words, a 
positive closing intonation, which emphatically declares, this alone 
to be the motive, and implies by the close, that no more is to be said : 
thereby affording a beautiful instance both of the grammatical, and 
the intonated effect of the cadence. Add to this, the contrasted 
variety of the rising intervals on the question, and the downward 
intervals on the answer: much preferable I would say, for its truth, 
dignity, and force, to the answer when made by the sneering in- 
tonation of rising intervals or of waves, sometimes applied to it. 
The next two questions, Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew 
hands? are similar in argumentative meaning, and should have a 
like intonation. They are both negative : and having in a preced- 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 261 

ing page given some examples, showing that the negative question 
includes in a greater or less degree the mental condition of belief; 
I here offer a further explanation of the manner in which that 
belief is grammatically conveyed. 

Let us take the following as a Common question of Real In- 
quiry ; Hath a Jew eyes ? Then the negative proposition A Jew 
hath not eyes. If we join a question to the negative declaration, 
we have this form of questioning a negative: Is it so? {that) a 
Jew hath not eyes. Which, with an identical meaning, may be 
thus traced through its various constructions. Is it true? — a Jew 
hath not eyes: orj is it true of a Jew? — he hath not eyes: or* a 
Jew, hath he not eyes? And from this, rejecting the pronoun and 
putting the noun in its place, we have: Hath a Jew not eyes? or 
connecting the negative with the verbj Hath not a Jew eyes ? 
which is the most simple form of questioning a negative. Now to 
doubt or question a negative, is in a certain degree, to intimate 
an affirmative ; and to question his not having eyes, at least 
carries with it, the assumed belief that he has. Hence negative 
questions may be considered as questions of Belief, under the 
form of an appeal. If this explanation is correct, Shylock does 
not look for an answer from Salanio ; but implies in the nega- 
tive appealing question^ his conviction, that the same physical 
and moral constitution in the Jew, and in the Christian, en- 
titles each equally to the rights of truth and justice. Under this 
view, the question put by Shylock, though one of assumed belief 
and of appeal, has its claims to the partial, or the downward 
intonation, overruled by its vehemence; and therefore demands 
the thorough interrogative expression. I do not say, that as an 
appeal taken with the negative construction, the two questions 
might not be given altogether in the downward intonation ; or at 
least with a direct wave on Jew, in the first, and a downward 
concrete on hands in the second. Yet to my ear, the keenness of 
the thorough interrogation is more appropriate to the energy of 
the case. 

Next follow in succession, five words, each being an eliptical 
declaratory question; and they are here so marked; having 
dropped the grammatical phrase, Hath not a Jew f These ques- 
tions then, severally call for the rising interrogative interval, on 



262 THE INTONATION 

each of their sylables. Lst there be no fear of monotony in this 
case ; the variety of elemental sound, and of meaning in the 
words, enable the ear to bear the repeated identity of a truthful 
intonation. We next have a sentence beginning &tfed, consist- 
ing of five clauses. This is still a declaratory question: but the 
elipsis that makes it so, does not avoid a solecism; for the inter- 
rogative verb must be changed, and the question if complete 
should be, notj Hath not, but* Is not a Jew fed with the same 
food, as a Christian is? Under its declaratory form in the text, 
its supposed negative embraces, like the preceding questions, a 
degree of belief and appeal. But the vehemence has somewhat 
subsided, and the intonation may therefore be partial; particularly 
at the end, where the diatonic cadence may be applied. The next 
four clauses are similar; and each is made-up of a condition, and 
of a negative question. If you prick us, do we not bleed ? This 
union of the condition and the negative, puts the question of belief 
and of appeal in so strong a light, that its meaning takes the lead, 
in the intonation of the several questions. All the interrogative 
phrases should therefore have the downward intervals; for these, 
we shall learn hereafter, form the intonation of appealing ques- 
tions; while the conditional phrases should have the partial, or 
the thorough expression, as the meaning, or as variety may re- 
quire. The next two clauses are alike in structure, and contain, 
severally, a condition, together with a pronominal question; If a 
Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Here the interro- 
gator returning his own answer, the question may be taken as an 
appeal, and thus receve the downward intonation. But as the 
question conveys a slight degree of sneer, the emphatic sylable of 
humility may receve a wider unequal direct wave of the fifth, 
which we shall learn hereafter is its proper vocal sign: at the 
same time, the rise of the first constituent of this wave, forms 
a striking and elegant contrast to the emphatic downward intona- 
tion of the answer^ Revenge. The other answer^ why, revenge, 
should have the triad of the cadence, on its three sylables, forci- 
bly declared by its downward vanishes; meaning, as it would 
seem; there is an end of the subject, let no more be said. For 
the higher Elocution, this argument of Shylock has great strength 
and beauty. The vehemence with which the rising intonation 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 263 

begins, moderates as it procedes; till it gradually declines to the 
downward, but still impressive intonation of an appeal. If the 
several questions seem to have too close a succession of the same 
rising intervals; let it be remembered, this is not monotony. It 
is the truth of intonation : and in the purposes of an ordained 
and expressive use of the voice, truth and fitness can never be 
monotonous to a scientific and cultivated ear. 

For a further ilustration of the negative interrogatory, under 
that degree of belief called the Triumphant question^ I give here 
an example, showing at the same time, the difference between the 
negative and the common form. 

When St. Paul, before the Judgment Seat, asks, in a com- 
mon question^ King Agrippa, belevest thou the Prophets ? he 
addresses a real inquiry, and cannot, therefore, with propriety, 
return the answer himself. And unless Agrippa had remained 
silent after the question, of which we are not informed, we see no 
cause why Paul should so confidently affirm the belief of Agrippa: 
for a hesitating or evasive answer on the part of Agrippa might 
have been taken as a colateral ground of belief, on the part of 
the interrogator. Paul's personal narrative, and his very prop- 
erly ascribing to Agrippa, a knowledge of Jewish affairs, even if 
grounds at all, are not implied in his real inquiry. Refering to 
the principle of assumed belief, that directs a negative question, 
let us apply it to a like construction here. King Agrippa, be- 
levest thou not the Prophets? or, Dost thou not, King Agrippa, 
beleve the Prophets? For the meaning in both cases is identical; 
since they each alike question a negative, and ask Agrippa, if he 
does not beleve, or if he disheleves the Prophets. And, if I am 
not misled both in the analysis, and inference^ to doubt or ques- 
tion a disbelief, is, to a certain degree, to suppose a belief. Let 
then the phrase of real inquiry, as the case is recorded, be made 
negative; and upon this doubt or question of Agrippa's disbe- 
lief Paul, in the confirming zeal of his argument, might, after 
his appealing interrogative, fairly make his conclusive declara- 
tion. Dost thou not, King Agrippa, beleve the Prophets? I 
know that thou belevest. 

For the intonation of this altered form of the question, apply 
rising interrogative intervals to the wordsj Dost thou not, King 



204 THE INTONATION 

Agrippa; making the first three strongly and deliberately em- 
phatic, with a slight pause after Agrippa: then reduce the octave 
or fifth, whichever may be used on the sentence, down to a third 
on the sylable grip, and to a second on pa ; and terminate the 
question, by positive falling intervals onj beleve the Prophets. 
Give an emphatic downward intonation to the declaration^ I know 
that thou belevestj with an exulting tremor on know ; and the 
question, by its earnestness, and the implied belief of its negative 
structure, will be a forcible figure of speech, and a striking ex- 
ample of the Triumphant inquiry.* 

There is, in the Eleventh chapter of the Second Corinthians, 
a series of questions and answers, by St. Paul; each somewhat 
resembling in structure that addressed to Agrippa, but far more 
irregular. Of these however I take one only, as an example of 
the other four. 

Are they Hebrews? So am I. 

* We are told in the 'Acts of the Apostles,' that Paul addressed Agrippa, in 
what we have called a common question of Real inquiry. But Paul, from his 
own account of his persecuting the Christians^ was a choleric, and a violent 
man: and was besides, an Enthusiast in the Platonic Philosophy; that scholas- 
tic source of the fanatical delusions of the 'real presence of Spiritualism;' and 
of political craft, in the prophecies of 'Manifest Destiny.' Urged and sustained 
by the overbearing energy, and the self-confidence of his character, he was 
necessarily fearless before his accusers, and eloquent in the honesty, and de- 
claration of bis belief. In the fervor of that belief, he put his question, as if 
his own conviction had reached his judge. Now as I maintain, either nature 
or convention, has appointed the form of a Negative question, to express this 
hopeful reliance of the interrogator, on the yielding assent of the respondent. 
But this is not the form recorded in the case before us. If Paul's friends or 
foes in the crowd, reported the Address, we cannot be surprised at a mistake. 
If it was written out byTaul, or repeated by him to others, the language must 
then have wanted the purpose and ardor which directed the appropriate gram- 
mar of his impressive vocal question. We may then be allowed, with some 
probability, to doubt that the question was written down in the very words of 
the speaker. 

The philosophical critic must pardon the merely ilustrating remark of this 
Note. And if this, my pastime of commentary, should disturb the nervous 
Orthodoxy of those who do not like to be called 'Lovers of Wisdom;' they will 
please to observe, that the proposed emendation of St. Luke, who though a 
Physician, may not have been an Elocutionist, is drawn from a law of Nature 
herself" who, among the countless, so called orthodoxies of men, has never yet 
found one in thorough likeness of her own. 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 265 

Here, in addition to the unsatisfactory use of the common 
question of real inquiry, in place of a negative of assumed be- 
lief; and to the incongruity between the number and person, of 
Hebrews and Ij the peculiar construction, in thus making the 
• interrogator the respondent, commits a violent solecism ; as a 
question cannot be the premis to an unconditional conclusion. 
For, so {in like manner to what f) am I, has not the least con- 
nection with the foregoing question; which affirms no existence 
as the antecedent to so. The purpose of speech is to represent, 
by sound and syntax, severally both thought and passion ; and 
no Art of Elocution, not ours at least, can by the modes of the 
voice, properly convey either thought or expression, upon the in- 
consistent clauses of this example. We may guess, that Paul 
meant to tell the Corinthians^ he addressed them as a Hebrew; 
but he does not say so, by strict, nor even by clear eliptical 
grammar. 

Are they Hebrews? is a question of real inquiry; and until 
answered in the affirmative, cannot have the least grammatical 
or mental correspondence with the declaration^ so am I. When 
the question is negative^ Are they not Hebrews ? it becomes one 
of belief; and so far as the declaration may be thereupon infered, 
its relationship to that assertive interrogatory, if I may so call it, 
is somewhat clearer. Now according to the meaning and power 
of a negative question* are they not Hebrews? the interrogator 
figuratively assumes, that they unconditionally are; and there- 
fore conclusively declares^ so am I. Yet this strong negative 
appeal, with its assumed assent, even when assisted by emphatic 
force, and a thorough downward intonation; as in, Are they not 
Hebrews? So am Ij has not a strictly grammatical nor mental 
construction; and it might be subject to the consequent; so am I 
not Hebrews, or a Hebrew. There is a discrepancy between the 
meaning of the question of belief in the former, and of the strict 
conclusion in the latter phrase. Nor can its awkwardness be en- 
tirely avoided, and the assumed belief be justifiable, without put- 
ting both phrases into the same form of negative interrogation. 
Are they not Hebrews ? and, am not I a Hebrew ? or again, am 
I not one ? 

The extent of interrogative intonation appropriate to questions 
18 



266 THE INTONATION 

put Argumentatively, and to those embracing a confident appeal; 
varies from the partial and the thorough rising, to the very re- 
verse condition of a downward intonation. But of the argu- 
mentative, and appealing interrogation, I shall speak, in a future 
section. 

When a question is vehemently made, under any grammatical 
structure, and with any number of such questions, either in con- 
junction or in series; the rule very generally assigns to the expres- 
sion, the thorough extent. 

Show me what thou'lt do. 
Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself? 
Woo't drink up Esil? eat a crocodile? 
I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine? 
To outface me with leaping in her grave? 

The passionative state that directs the voice in these several 
questions, has an excess of vehemence, and its purpose is inter- 
rogative. The interrogation therefore, must be vehemently 
marked by its rising intervals on every word, or there will be no 
correspondence between the passionative state of mind, and the 
vocal expression. It may perhaps be said; this repetition of the 
same interval, would be monotonous. If so, the charge is made 
against Nature; and it is always hopeful to defend her. Let 
him who would try it for variety; give the several questions, 
alternately with a rising and a falling octave or fifth; and hear 
then, their meaning quite destroyed, by this see-saw of real 
monotony. Again, let him otherwise contrast these intervals, 
for some must rise; and try every succession that may seem to 
promise variety; then we shall have, together with a striking 
oddity, a far worse monotony of affectation. After these trials, 
let him give each question with its proper rising interval; and 
we can say whether the passionative state is not as deeply im- 
pressed on us, as it is forcibly expressed by him. He is only 
telling the truth of utterance, with emphatic repetition; and we, 
if fit for sympathy, cannot perceve a monotony, which not being 
in his thought or passion, he does not vocally express. Yet see 
the elocution, in the Poet's mind and pen! He put eight ques- 
tions within these lines, and thought then, as we may therefore 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 267 

say now, that all should have the rising intonation. He paid this 
tribute to expression, in the first six ; and with a mind uncon- 
scious of monotony in truths and only to give it variety, by an- 
other phrase with the downward interval, and its vehement assent, 
he thought, and in passionative contrast wrotej Til do it. 

Say, thou All-Observant, and All-Reflective power of Shak- 
speare ! do I not thus speak the truth of thy discrimination, as 
thy All-Reaching language, so often speaks to me the everlasting 
truth, and truthful analogies of nature and of life ! 

But to return. Should a question be addressed with a moderate 
form of inquiry, it generally takes the partial form of expression. 
When Hamlet says to Guildensternj 

Will you play upon this pipe ? 

the composure of mind and the rank of the Prince mingle in the 
question, the mild authority of a request, with the doubt of an in- 
quiry; and this is perhaps properly represented by the use of a 
moderate interrogative intonation on the first part of the sen- 
tence, with a subsequent reposing descent of the diatonic cadence. 
It would appear, the instrument is brought into the scene, and the 
question thereupon put, with a view to the consequent quibble; 
and on this ground, perhaps, the word pipe might be regarded as 
emphatic. Still the emphasis may be made by moderate stress or 
force, on the last constituent of the triad, without the necessity in 
this case, of a rising interrogative interval. Should this moderate 
degree of the question be earnestly increased, it would take the 
thorough interrogative, unless overruled by a negative construc- 
tion, to the downward expression. 

When a question is asked with surprise, indignation, scorn, and 
other similar states, it generally receves the thorough expression. 
Let us take some examples from the scene, in the first act of 
Hamlet, between Hamlet, Horatio, and the two officers; where, 
from the moment Horatio informs Hamlet of his having seen his 
father, there follows, on the part of the Prince, a succession of 
questions, with both the declaratory and interrogative construc- 
tion, requiring with one or two exceptions, a marked use of the 
thorough expression. 

There are thirteen questions in this dialogue. In applying 



268 THE INTONATION 

our principles of intonation to them, the Novelty of the matter in 
this Work, and the required peculiarity of its arrangement, make 
it necessary to anticipate some points of our subject, that will be 
fully explained hereafter. It is found by the experience of those 
who gain knowledge from books, that what is worth reading at 
all, should be read more than once; different parts of a system 
being the best expositors of each other. The Student of Nature 
is always, again and again, going over the Pandect of her self- 
explaining Volume. 

After some words about the late King, our extract from the 
dialogue begins herej 

Ilor. My lord, I think I saw him yester-night. 
Ham. Saw? who? 

There seems to be here, two separate questions. The First is 
eliptical; either for the declaratory interrogative phrase, you 
saw ? or for the common question, did you see ? and refers 
soley to the fact of an apparition: since Hamlet's thought is, for 
•the moment exclusively directed to the impossibility of the King, 
his father, having been seen. The Second is ungrammatically 
eliptical either for, saw whom? or for, whom did you see? and 
refers to the person of the apparition. By taking these as two 
separate questions, we are enabled to give more force and variety 
to their intonated expression. They each express astonishment 
and inquiry, the former predominating; and this, we shall learn 
hereafter, calls for a wide downward^ and the question, for a wide 
rising interval. These different expressions in the first question 
are therefore connected and reconciled by the falling continued 
into the rising octave; thus forming what we call the inverted 
wave. The astonished interrogation of this wave, is then to be 
applied to the first question saw? The second question, who? 
by an error in case, is eliptical for, Who did you see? It is not 
however, properly a declaratory word, requiring a rising interval ; 
as an interrogative pronoun, it does even when alone, always convey 
the meaning of a condition or question. But the question has al- 
ready been emphatically made on saw ? With a moderate pause 
after this word, the astonishment may therefore be expressed by 
an emphatic downward octave on who ; forming what will be de- 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 269 

scribed hereafter, as the Exclamatory question. In this way, 
the expression of these two words, both forcible and true, is 
effected with more variety, than if the same intonation were used 
on each. 

Hor. My lord, the King, your father. 
Ham. The King, my father ? 

This being a declaratory question, under a state of astonish- 
ment, calls for an impressive thorough interrogation ; which may 
be made, as in the last case, by the inverted wave of the octave 
on King ; and as the short quantity of the sylable fa, will not 
bear the prolongation of the wave, and perhaps, not even the 
simple rise of an emphatic octave, without deforming its pro- 
nunciation the interrogative expression might be effected, by 
taking fa, at the current level of the voice, and then rising with 
ther, by an upward skip of radical pitch, to the hight of an 
octave, as exemplified in the fourteenth section. 

Horatio having then detailed the circumstances of the Ghost's 
visitation, Hamlet asksj 

But where was this ? 

What was said, in ilustrating the intonation of sentences con- 
structed with the adverb and pronoun, applies here : for as the 
question emphatically regards the placej where must have either 
a simple interrogative rise of an octave, or fifth, or a union of 
these respective intervals, in the form of an inverted wavej and, 
was this assumes the first duad form of the cadence. 

Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watch' d. 
Ham. Did you not speak to it? 

This is a negative question. All that was said formerly of the 
examplej Hath not a Jew eyes, and of the other like cases, may 
be refered to, and applied here; with the exception however, 
that the present question is less vehement, and therefore less con- 
fident in its assumed belief, and in the hope of an according answer. 
The greater energy in the former case required the thorough ex- 
pression; here, the interrogative may be either thorough or par- 
tial, as Hamlet's assumed degree of belief may direct. If however, 



270 THE INTONATION 

as it appears to me, there is, in the thought that Horatio should, 
yet might not have spoken to it, some passing disposition to 
reproof on the part of Hamletj the intonation should be partial, 
to express the reproof, perhaps on the word not, by a positive 
downward interval. 

Ilor. My lord, I did ; but answer made it none. 
Ham. 'Tis very strange. 

Hot. As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true. 
Ham. Indeed, indeed sirs, but this troubles me. 
Hold you the watch, to night? 

This is a question of real inquiry, which by our general rule, 
calls for the thorough intonation. Still there may be another 
cause for it here. Thinking men in their purposes, either good or 
badj if indeed, that exalted agent real thinking ever stoops, as 
fictional thought often does, to an unworthy purpose^ always have 
a motive for them. When therefore, Shakspeare makes the whole 
company at once, answer this question, we must suppose it is to 
show, the question is not addressed to any one, but to all. Con- 
sequently, the interrogative expression should be thrown over the 
whole sentence, with a slight emphasis on, to night; the time 
being the unknown; as holding the watch, and the sentinels to be 
set, are the given quantities, so to speak, in the mind of Hamlet. 

All. We do, my lord. 
Ham. Arm'd, say you ? 

This is not strictly, a question of real inquiry. For Horatio 
having formerly described the king, 'arm'd at point, exactly, 
cap-a-pe,' Hamlet is aware of his having so appeared. Still, in 
cases where the mind is unprepared for a new impression, and 
hardly receves it> Hamlet recurs, by the phrasej say you, to the 
former report by Horatio, and asks for a confirmation of it. This, 
from the colateral inference, being then a question of belief, might 
seem to call for the partial intonation. Yet as the thought comes 
back to Hamlet, with some surprise; as an earnestness is implied 
in the desire to have the former statement repeated; and as the 
question consists of only three words, and those, important to the 
point, each should receve the interrogative expression. 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 271 

Hor. Arm'd, my lord. 
Ham. From top to toe? 

This is a declaratory question, and requires the thorough 
interrogation. 

Hor. My lord, from head to foot. 
Ham. Then saw you not his face ? 

This is a negative question, with its assumed degree of belief; 
yet as its temper is earnest; as the last word is emphatic, and 
thus requires an interrogative interval, the whole question calls 
for the thorough expression. 

Hor. 0, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. 
Ham. What! Look'd he frowningly ? 

I cannot at once determine the grammatical character of the 
first word of this question : though inclined to take it for an ex- 
clamation, rather than an interrogative. In each case it must 
be considered an elipsis ; in the former, perhaps for what a 
wonder; in the latter for what zoas his appearance? As a pro- 
nominal interrogatory, it requires a wide rising interval ; and the 
following phrase, looked he frowningly, being a question of real 
inquiry, with the thorough expression, we have unnecessarily, 
and with seeming levity of voice, two consecutive interrogations. 
In the other case, taking the pronoun as an eliptical exclamation, 
with a downward fifth or octave, and a subsequent pause, the 
gravity of this interval would contrast agreeably with the thor- 
ough rising interrogation, and give greater dignity to the whole 
expression. 

Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. 
Ham. Pale, or red? 

This is a declaratory eliptical question, and should receve a 
thorough interrogative. But perhaps we may find an overruling 
cause why it should take the partial. These words make an 
emphatic contradistinction; and as that contradistinction must 
be shown by intonation, we would give to pale, a rising interro- 
gativej and to red, a downward positive intonation. Were the 



272 THE INTONATION 

quantity of this last word greater, it might receve, with more 
propriety, the direct wave ; its first or rising interval, moderating 
by its interrogative effect, the positiveness of its downward ter- 
mination. Yet even with the single intervals above proposed, 
the question is marked, and the words are contradistinguished, 
by an emphatic and varied intonation. This example forms one 
of the exceptions to the very general rule, that declarative ques- 
tions should receve the thorough interrogative expression. Though 
it is to be remarked, that in this case the doubting disjunctive or, 
overrules, in a degree, its declaratory character. 

Hor. Nay, very pale. 

Earn. And fixed his eyes on you? 

This, if a question, is a declarative one ; and requires the in- 
terrogative intervals throughout. There seems nevertheless, to 
be an indication of belief in this sentence, which should make it 
an affirmative remark, requiring a downward intonation. If so, 
perhaps the question, as noted by the editor, is annulled, upon 
this colateral inferencej that a ghost appearing to a person, would 
very probably fix his eyes on him. 

Hor. Most constantly. 

Ham. I would I had been there. 

Hor. It would have much amazed you. 

Ham. Very like, very like. Staid it long? 

The last three words, are here the question; and containing a 
real inquiry, call for the thorough expression. 

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. 

Mar. Ber. Longer, longer. 

Hor. Not when I saw it. 

Ham. His beard was grizzl'd? No? 

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, a sable silvered. 

There seems to be some difficulty in this last question. If the 
phraseology were completed thus: His beard was grizzl'd, was it 
not? the case would be quite clear. For, taking the first phrase 
under this form, as a declaratory question, it would receve a 
thorough interrogative intonation: the second, being a proper 
grammatical question, with its rising intervals, and following the 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 273 

first, would have the propriety and force of an emphatic repeti- 
tion of the question, under a negative and appealing form. But 
■when, as in the dialogue, the construction of the last phrase is 
reduced by elipsis, to the monosylable no, and both the phrases 
are then made intonated questions, it renders in some degree, the 
elocution awkward, and the meaning obscure. Every edition of 
Shakspeare I have examined, makes each of these phrases, a 
separate interrogation. If they are so, the first is a declarative 
question, and therefore must have the rising interval on every 
word; No, being always declarative must have that meaning an- 
nulled by its rising interval. The question having however, been 
distinctly expressed by the first phrase, an endeavor to enforce 
it, under this brief monosylabic construction, would produce only 
an ineffectual vocal repetition. For a single interrogative inter- 
val on the word no, that in meaning and grammar never conveys 
a doubt, does not here, give the impression of the question, which 
is effected, by a like interrogative intonation, on the above pro- 
posed and full grammatical question, was it not? If the Reader 
will give a thorough expression to these two different forms of 
the sentence;* His beard was grizzl'd? no? and^ His beard was 
grizzl'd? was it not? he will perceve in the lattery the inquiry is 
clearly enforced, by its repetition under the different form of a 
negative appeal ; in the former, there is some verbal confusion 
and consequently an undetermined character in the elocution. 
For in this case it might seem, without due reflection, that Hamlet 
having first inquired whether the beard was grizzled, immediately 
answers his own question, by a declaration that it was not. But 
taking this single word according to the text, as a question, even 
a wide interrogative interval on no, has not the power to destroy 
entirely, the usual and strongly declarative meaning of this nega- 
tive monosylable. And this produces, a confusion, which the full 
grammatical question^ was it not, would entirely obviate. 

There is another view to be taken of this example; for Elo- 
cution is a current of divided, and sometimes diverging rills. 
Thus the phrase, His beard was grizzl'd, may be taken as a posi- 
tive affirmation by Hamlet, from a full recolection of its living 
color, and used as additional means of identifying the apparition 
with his father. In this case, it should have the downward into- 



274 THE INTONATION 

nation of a common assertion. The phrase being so regarded, 
Hamlet seems, for a moment, to question his own conviction; 
and thereupon, by the declaratory question, no, here an elipsis 
forj was it not grizzl'd? asks Horatio, by a rising fifth or octave, 
on this negative monosylable, if it was not so. My own ear and 
reflection incline me to this manner of treating the example. But 
under ignorance of the full verbal and mental analysis of the 
subject, the two parts of the sentence, being universally marked 
as real and separate questions, I did, on that condition, in the 
first case, propose for them, what seemed to me a suitable into- 
nation. 

To the scientific and practical Artist-Reader of another age, 
skilled in the principles, and if we may so speak, in the design, 
light and shade, color, and perspective, of Elocution, we may 
predict* that without some further discernment, or a change of 
language, in his day, the structure of this sentence will never 
allow a quite satisfactory intonation. As however, Hamlet must 
speak from recolection, I would propose, according to the man- 
ner just described, to make the first clause a simple assertion, 
with a downward intonation; and no, with a wide interrogative 
interval. Yet this, from the influence of the usually uncondi- 
tional meaning of no, does not satisfy me; and perhaps it is only 
a poor apology for my own inability, to sayj the sentence, how- 
ever it might be vocally Thought, should never have been written, 
to be read aloud, or spoken; and though awake to a conventional 
expression, yet here, Shakspeare, the Actor, slept. 

I have said little on the emphatic words, and other points in 
these questions ; and have only occasionally noted the extent of 
the intervals; the object being, to describe some of the forms of 
partial and thorough interrogation, and the general character of 
their expression; though it may here be remarked, that nearly 
all Horatio's answers should have throughout, the downward in- 
terval of a third or fifth, according to the degree of expression 
required: the intonation being appropriate to the solemnity of 
the scene, the confidence of the answers, and to the seriousness 
with which Horatio sympathizes with the wonder of Hamlet. Add 
to the propriety of this downward movement, the contrast with 
the earnestness of the rising intervals of Hamlet's common and 



OF INTERKOGATIVE SENTENCES. 275 

declaratory questions. Perhaps in the last example, the several 
answers of Horatio and the two officers, having taken an argu- 
mentative and more familiar turn, the intonation should be en- 
livened by a mingling use of proper rising intervals. 

Among the purposes of this Work, the title-page announces, 
its design to render criticism in elocution, inteligible, through the 
study, and promulgation of its system and principles. I have 
therefore endeavored to show, by the preceding explanatory criti- 
cisms, how these principles may be applied; leaving others, with 
competent knowledge, and an observant industry to make par- 
ticular applications for themselves. Personal Authority has al- 
ways laid such a stupefying weight on the human mind, that it is 
hoped this book may be consulted, only for those submitted prin- 
ciples which observation, experiment, and well-watched thinking, 
may hereafter confirm; and not as critical opinions intended by 
the author, only to ilustrate his subject; an ilustration being 
often, no more than an analogy to the meaning of a proposition, 
not an examplary proof of it. 

We have another instance of the thorough intonation, pro- 
duced by an excited state of mind, in the retort of Cleopatra, to 
Proculeius, the friend of Caesar. 

Know, sir, that I 
Will not wait pinioned at your master's court; 
Nor once be chastised with the sober eye 
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up, 
And show me to the shouting varletry 
Of censuring Rome? Eather a ditch in iEgypt 
Be gentle grave unto me. 

The repulsive indignation of this question cannot be fairly 
represented, without an earnest degree of interrogation. As 
there seems however, to be some implied appeal, in the word, 
shallj it might be supposed, the question is one for partial into- 
nation. But under this, or any other exceptive condition, the 
passionative state of mind would overrule it. 

Should the last sylable of a question be emphatic, and its in- 
tonation not directed to the partial expression by the preceding 
rules, particularly that, regarding the seriesj the last sylable 
bears the interrogative interval. Should the sentence be short, 



276 THE INTONATION 

or consist of a single member, the expression will have a thor- 
ough application. In the dialogue between the murderers of 
Clarence, the second speaker exclaims and asksj 

What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? 

From the answer of his companion it is plainj the question 
points at the act of sleeping, and this produces an interrogative 
emphasis on the last word. Had the inquiry been whether the 
victim should be stabbed, or otherwise put to death, the word stab 
would carry the emphatic intonation, and the sentence might end 
with a diatonic cadence. 

It will be shown in a future section on Exclamatory sentences, 
that a phrase, with the grammatical form of a question, yet 
having the interrogative purpose overruled by colateral influ- 
ences, is not properly expressed by rising intervals, but by a 
contrary movement of pitch. 

Having brought the subject of thorough and of partial inter- 
rogative intonation, into something like a describable form, I 
leave the correction of its errors, and the amplifying of its ap- 
proved hints, as a work for the better ear, and closer attention 
of others. 

Let us analyze more particularly, the manner of employing 
the interrogative intervals on individual sylables. 

Prefatory to this investigation, it is necessary to consider the 
radical and vanishing movement, when applied to short and im- 
mutable sylables. In the second section I described the means 
by which the various concretes may be exemplified on long quan- 
tities ; and there asserted, that no sylable however short, can be 
uttered without passing through the radical and vanish, under 
some form of intonation. Perhaps the Reader is now prepared to 
reccve proof, that the concrete does rapidly pass through the 
wider intervals, on immutable sylables. 

We will suppose, he is familiar with the interrogative expres- 
sion of a slow concrete rise through a third, fifth, and octave, on 
prolonged sylables. Then let him pronounce the immutable syl- 
able top, without meaning or passion; and again, as an earnest 
question. He will perceve, in the last case, that however quickly 
uttered, it will still have the peculiar interrogative expression. 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 277 

This interrogative expression, on the slow time of an indefinite 
sylable, is audibly and measurably made by the wider interval of 
the fifth or octave; and as there is no other means for producing 
concretely this interrogative effect j the inference is fair, that the 
voice in producing that same effect on a short sylable, must have 
passed, however rapidly through one of those wider intervals. 
For it cannot in this case, procede from a peculiar vocality ; nor 
from an impressive degree of force; and that it is not produced 
soley by a radical skip of the sylable to a high place of pitch, 
may be heard in the following experiment. Let the Reader rise 
step by step through the musical scale, on the word topj taking 
care to give it no more than the concrete of a second at each 
degree: yet with this discrete rise through successive degrees to 
any hight, there will be no interrogative effect. To what then is 
the interrogative effect, on an immutable sylable to be ascribed, 
if not to a momentary concrete flight of the voice, through an 
interrogative interval? The audible effect justifies the conclu- 
sion; though the increments of time and space on the scale, so 
distinctly perceptible in the slower concrete, are on the immuta- 
ble sylable, altogether beyond the power of measurement. 

From this view of the difference in time of the radical and 
vanish, on indefinite and on immutable syiables; and with refer- 
ence to the uses of their different times in the intonation of inter- 
rogative sentences^ let us call the measurable movement of the 
voice through an indefinite sylable, the Slow Concrete: and its 
momentary flight through a short and an immutable one, the 
Rapid Concrete. 

It appears by the trials above proposed, that the interrogative 
effect is producible on the shortest syiables ; and similar experi- 
ments warrant the general conclusion, that every interval of the 
scale in whatever time, is practicable on every sylabic quantity of 
speech. It is however to be remarked that the rapid flight of the 
wider intervals through short syiables, compared with their slow 
movement through the indefinite, has a feebleness of interroga- 
tive expression, directly proportional to its rapidity; and conse- 
quently, that the slow and distinctly measurable concrete on 
indefinite syiables produces a more marked impression on the ear. 
Yet it is desirable that the thorough expression should be equally 



278 THE INTONATION 

diffused over the sentence ; and as all sylables have not sufficient 
length, to bear the slow and most impressive interrogative con- 
crete, it follows that other means besides those already described, 
must be employed on short sylables, for effecting with uniformity, 
the intonation of a question. The means for strengthening the 
comparative feebleness of interrogative expression on short syl- 
ables, consists in raising them, by change of radical pitch, through 
the interrogative interval, to the line at the summit of the slow 
concretes on indefinite quantities; as the following notation of an 
instance of thorough expression will exemplify. 

Givo Bru tus a stat ue with his an ces tors? 



j=^-f=s-f== s=t- 



m—J. — it 



In this case the interrogative intonation is made by the fifth 
on every sylable. On the first two, which are indefinite and 
emphatic, the slow and measurable concrete is used. The third 
being immutable, cannot bear the slow concrete; the pitch is 
therefore suddenly transfered by radical change to the hight of 
the preceding vanish; w T here, at the same moment, the sylable 
takes on the rapid concrete of the fifth as represented by the 
diminished symbol. The melody continues at this hight, on all 
the following unemphatic sylables, or which, if emphatic as may 
be said % of stat, are of immutable quantity. From his, the radi- 
cal pitch descends to the indefinite sylable an, for the purpose of 
rising on this sylable by the slow concrete; and the two final 
short quantities terminate the melody, by radical change and the 
rapid concrete. 

It is by this method then, the union of a radical change with 
the rapid concrete, that a full and forcible interrogative intona- 
tion is given to those sylables, which are too short to admit of 
the slower and measurable movement. 

The Header may observe the effect of this radical change, by 
deliberately pronouncing the noun convict, as an earnest ques- 
tion. The sylable con being an indefinite quantity, and emphatic, 
will be distinctly heard to rise concretely from a given point of 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 279 

pitch, to tHe place of the fifth or octave, according to the earnest- 
ness of the expression ; and the immutable sylable vict, with its 
discrete skip and rapid concrete, will be heard at the hight of 
that previous vanish. If vict, after the slower rise of con, is kept 
down at the level of the radical of con, and there uttered with a 
rapid concrete rise, carefully guarding against the descent to a 
close, the interrogative intonation is still perceptible, but in a 
degree far inferior to the keen questioning of the radical skip, 
combined with the rapid concrete. 

It is not difficult to assign the cause why the interrogative 
effect of the rapid concrete is enforced, by its being taken on the 
higher places of the scale. For the rise by the slow concrete is 
after all, but a gradual change from a low to a high pitch; and 
though that gradual, or continuous change is plainly distinguish- 
able, in its degree of expression, from a discrete sJcip to the same 
hight, still an essential yet not the exclusive agency of the 
gradual movement, is its designating that higher place by term- 
inating there. This designation is the sole efficient in the radical 
skip ; and like that of two discrete notes on a musical instrument, 
when heard successively, as the extremes of a wide interval of the 
scale, it does in effect closely resemble a concrete transition be- 
tween the same extremes. When to this effect of the radical 
change, the co-operating expression of the rapid concrete is added, 
the combined effects become equivalent to the interrogative ex- 
pression, produced by the slow concrete on an indefinite sylable. 

As the rapid concrete of a short sylable, even if emphatic, pro- 
duces however moderately, an interrogative expression, it may be 
used without the radical change, in cases not requiring a strongly 
marked intonation of the question. In other words, all the inter- 
rogative sylables of sentences bearing the partial expression, for 
a thorough expression is generally forcible, may be kept at about 
the same line of radical pitch. But the short sylables so assigned, 
must still perform their rapid concrete in the appropriate interro- 
gative interval : and it will generally be found, that the moderate 
temper of such questions has the abated expression, ascribed to 
the Third, in the history of that interval. 

Besides that succession of radical change above noted and ex- 
plained, there is another method of applying the general principle 



280 THE INTONATION 

of its formation and use. When the first part of a sentence con- 
sists of short quantities, the interrogative expression may be made, 
by the voice setting out at once with a rapid concrete, on the high 
pitch, and descending afterwards at the first emphatic sylable of 
long quantity. By taking-away from the preceding example, the 
first two slow concretes, and setting over the remaining symbols, 
the following phrase, as an earnest question; 

Pitt a statue with his ancestors? 

it will have the just interrogative expression. 

Perhaps the Reader is now prepared for this general statement ; 
That the current melody of interrogation, in sentences requiring 
the Thorough expression, is made by the slow concrete interval of 
the third or fifth or octave, on long and emphatic sylables; and 
by a change of radical pitch, together with the rapid concrete, on 
the short and unemphatic, and the unaccented; that in sentences, 
restricted to the Partial expression, the intonation is made by a 
similar use of the above named interrogative intervals, in connec- 
tion with the phrases of the common diatonic melody ; and that in 
each separate case of a Thorough, or Partial expression, the inter- 
rogation may in the same sentence, be formed soley by the Third, 
or Fifth, or Octave, or these several intervals may be used together 
in the same sentence^ as the words require, on the one hand, the 
same degree of expression, and on the other, an application of the 
different intervals to the varying demands of those words. 

Having shown, with regard to interrogative intonation, that 
all the rising intervals are practicable on the shortest sylabic 
timej their expression, however moderate, being by what we have 
called the Rapid concrete^ it should here be added, that univers- 
ally, the characteristic effects of all the intervals, both upward 
and downward, are perceptible on short and unaccented sylables. 
With this principle of intonation in view, the Reader is refered to 
the eleventh section, where the use of the rapid concrete is tran- 
siently alluded to, in application to an exemplified instance of the 
co-operation of the character of a short, with that of the full ex- 
pression of an extended sylable. It is there said of the linej 

Pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth. 



OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 281 

That, by the slow concrete on par, and on bleed, together with a 
certain co-operation 'by the other sylables, the due expression is 
spread effectively over the whole line. And it now appears, that 
the same plaintive interval of the same time, which is slowly em- 
ployed on those two prolongable quantities, is, though faintly, 
perceved in its rapid flight through the short and unaccented syla- 
bles ; each form of intonation contributing a different portion and 
degree of the intended expression. 

Let us now learn the means for constructing the Cadence of 
interrogative sentences: or, as most of these sentences have not 
the peculiar close or descent of the cadence, strictly so calledj let 
us to be more precise^ learn the manner of intonation on their 
three final sylables. 

The close of a sentence with the Thorough expression, is made 
in one of the following forms. And let the Reader remember, 
that when applied to proper interrogative sentences, the terms 
slow and rapid concrete, mean always, the rise of the interval; 
for there is a distinction to be made between these sentences, 
and others, with the grammatical construction of a question, 
which require the downward intervals. 

In the First, if the three sylables are unemphatic, or immuta- 
ble if emphatic, or are the unaccented sylables of an emphatic 
wordj the interrogative effect is produced by a radical change, and 
a rapid concrete of these final sylables: these sylables at their 
elevated pitch, being carried on in the phrase of the monotone, or 
of the rising ditone. For the interrogative expression always im- 
plying a continuation of the voice, as distinguished from the close 
of the Triad;* the above named phrases do add their peculiar 
character to that of the rapid concrete, and thus effect the re- 
quired continuation, at the end of the sentence. This species of 
close is here exemplified. 

He said you were in com pa ra — ble? 

19 



282 THE INTONATION 

In the Second; the same thorough expression being still sup- 
posedj if the antepenult sylable is emphatic, and of indefinite 
quantity, it assumes the slow concrete, and the last two take on 
the radical change and the rapid concrete^ shown by the notation 
of the word ancestors in a preceding example. 

In the Third ; if the penult is a long quantity, it will rise by 
the slow concrete; and the last will have the rapid concrete with 
the radical change. This form of intonation may be obvious 
without a diagram; and from what has been already shown, it 
will be unnecessary to give an ilustration by the staff, to all the 
succeding descriptions within the present subject. 

In the Fourth ; if the last sylable of a sentence requiring the 
thorough expression, is emphatic and capable of bearing the slow 
concrete, it assumes that form of intonation. Under this con- 
dition, the radical pitch of the three sylables may go through the 
downward tritone, as here represented. 

Give Fab ius a tri mnph for his de — lay? 



^ffl^, 



In this instance, the concrete rise of the octave, fifth, or third, 
as the* case may be, will create a perception of continuity, and 
thus counteract the tendency of the radical descent, through three 
successive tones, to produce a close: for it is a condition of the 
terminative cadence, that the vanish of its last sylable should be 
in a downward direction. 

When a sentence has the Partial expression, and the last words 
do not require the interrogative intervals, the cadence should be 
diatonic, and therefore terminate with the appropriate triad. But 
questions with the partial expression sometimes have one of the 
last three sylables emphatic, which then calls for an interrogative 
interval. Under this condition, the following will be the struc- 
ture of the cadence. 

First. When the antepenult sylable is emphatic, and of indefi- 
nite quantity, it will take the slow interrogative interval; and 






OF INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 283 

the last two will successively descend from the point below the 
radical of that concrete, and form with it, a proper diatonic triad. 

Second. Should the penult be emphatic, and bear the slow 
concrete, the last sylable will have its radical pitch a tone below 
that of the preceding, and by its downward vanish will produce 
the close of the triad ; the emphatic sylable with its interrogative 
intonation, being in radical pitch, a tone below the antepenult. 
This construction however, is not common; for if the emphatic 
interrogative expression on the concrete interval comes so near 
the close, it is generally continued, by the last sylable rising with 
the radical change. 

Third. When the final sylable is emphatic, and of indefinite 
time, the cadence is made like that of the last diagram, in the 
preceding account of thorough expression. 

The history here given of interrogative intonation, embraces a 
few leading observations on its forms and effects: and the whole 
subject offers some interesting views on the philosophy of the 
human mind, as well as that of speech. It shows how far, the 
demands of thought and passion outrun the significant powers of 
the voice at present in use; how counter-currents of expression 
meet without confusion; and how varied states of mind, under 
the same forms of intonation, are distinguished by the conven- 
tional specifications of language. I leave the discovery and bet- 
ter arrangement, of other phenomena, and of the rule of their 
variety, for the observation of the Reader. Upon some future 
extension of the principles of this essay to the universal practice 
of speech, the subject of interrogative intonation will form a full 
chapter of methodic detail. I see, perhaps dimly, some of its 
abundant and unsorted materials ; but have not time, if even the 
ability, to light-up, to gather-in, to disentangle, to specify, com- 
bine, and complete. What is here done, may seem to be too 
much. For "the present age, I beleve it is. But this is a con- 
cession altogether foreign to our anticipations of the progress of 
knowledge, and to the pleasure we may derive from our attempt 
to unfold it. A history of the desirable and welcome truth of 
Nature, in the dignified confidence of even its humble contribu- 
tions, no more asks the favor and applause of those who read, 
than Nature herself asks the gratitude and worship of those who 



'284: THE RISING SECOND. 

enjoy her bounties. She gives what she gives, in her own pride 
less wisdom, without distracting her self-energized dispensations, 
by the subordinate schemes of hopeful ambition. A record of 
her admirable things should be, in all, the image of her; and 
perhaps he would both do and enjoy more, in the work of dis- 
covering and describing her, who could catch a portion of the 
unostentatious liberality with which she bestows, and who could 
put on some of her indifference, to the too often thoughtless 
praise or blame of those who receve. 



SECTION XVIII. 

Of the Interval of the Rising Second. 

We return from the foregoing account of the use of the wider 
intervals of pitch, in the construction of interrogative melody, 
to the enumeration and description of other intervals of more 
limited extent, yet of no less essential efficacy in the scale of 
intonation. 

The rising interval of the second or tone, both in its concrete, 
and in its discrete form, has in previous parts of this essay been 
attentively considered, with regard to its character and its posi- 
tion in speech. In continuing our orderly notice of all the inter- 
vals of the scale, we here resume the subject of this Second, with 
some further remarks on its important uses. It is the basis of 
the diatonic melody; and is appropriate to those thoughtive parts 
of discourse which convey the plain meaning of the speaker, as 
distinguished from those passionative states of mind, that call for 
wider intervals, and other signs of Expression. Although the 
Tone, in its simplest state, is excluded from among the especial 
agents of expression, we shall hereafter learnj it may be made 
impressive by stress on different parts of its concrete; and that 
an extension of the voice into the wave of this interval, gives an 
admirative or reverentive dignity to the diatonic melody, without 
destroying the plain and unobtrusive character of its intonation. 






THE RISING SECOND. 285 

The radical and vanish is a necessary function of utterance; 
for no sylabic impulse can be made, without passing through 
some one form of the concrete. In thus asserting, that immutable 
sylables in a diatonic melody do pass instantaneously through the 
second or tone, I confess, my ear cannot measure the progress of 
the transition. Yet I am led to the conclusion, by the following 
considerations. 

Every equable concrete utterance of a tone, with its measur- 
able increments of time and motion, has manifestly the radical 
and vanishing progression. When therefore the time of this slow 
and manifest concrete, is gradually shortened, in repeated pro- 
nunciation, till it becomes, seemingly a point of sounds the into- 
native effect of this instant-impulse on the ear, does not differ 
materially from that of the concrete, in which the increments of 
time and the progress of pitch are measurable. 

And further, it has been shown, that the concrete interrogative 
intervals of the third, fifth, and octave, may be passed through 
on an immutable sylable. This was proved by the peculiar ef- 
fect of the interrogative voice being thereon distinctly conizable ; 
and we shall learn in the next section, that the semitone, which 
by its peculiar expression cannot be mistaken, does likewise pass 
through the concrete, on the shortest sylables. We can then 
scarcely suppose^ the Tone has not the same concrete movement 
on momentary sylables, as all the other intervals of the scale 
when uttered with the same momentary impulse. There is how- 
ever a plain but characteristic effect in the thoughtive moment- 
ary flight of immutable sylables, clearly distinguishable from that 
of their prolonged and passionative utterance through the con- 
crete space of a semitone, third, and other wider intervals. This 
may be only an instant-point of voice; but under the above in- 
ference, we are scarcely allowed to doubt, its being a rapid con- 
crete passage through the second or tone. We learned, in the 
seventeenth section, that the wider intervals are heard through 
both the slow and the rapid concrete, in interrogative sentences. 
Finding here that the like times of movement are used in the 
simple second; and as intimated above, it is the same with the 
semitone; we may state this general law of intonation^ that all 
intervals, whether thoughtive or expressive, are employed both 



286 THE RISING SECOND. 

in the upward and downward direction, under the two forms of 
slow and of rapid concrete, respectively on the long and short 
quantity of sylables. 

Perhaps the Reader may desire to know particularly, what 
portions of discourse receve the tone or second; and with what 
continuity the diatonic melody is employed. In describing and 
ilustrating this melody, it was, according to the plan of gradually 
unfolding our subject, represented as continuing through succes- 
sive sentences. The diatonic movement is however, rarely found 
of long continuation; the current of the Tone being occasionally 
interrupted by some expressive form of upward and downward 
concrete, and of radical pitch. We have already learned in what 
manner the wider rising intervals are employed in this melody, 
both for emphasis, and interrogation. Other intonative means are 
introduced for the same purpose. As occasions for using em- 
phatic or passionative intervals occur in discourse, the diatonic 
melody generally exists only in limited portions; its continuity 
in the tone or second being broken by these impressive intervals, 
more or less frequently, as the various forms of their intonation 
may require. A gazette advertisement, a legal instrument, and 
the purely communicative style of plain narrative and description, 
may generally be read in the thorough diatonic melody. Yet 
even these must have emphatic words that call for some expres- 
sive vocal sign ; and rarely, compositions addressed to taste, are 
without their melody being occasionally varied, by the more or 
less frequent occurrence of other intervals than the second. Ac- 
cording to the line I have endeavored to draw between thought 
and passion, and consistently with their appropriate intonation, it 
might be supposed, the propositions of Euclid should be read in 
the continuous diatonic melody ; but even these are often varied 
by wider intervals, introduced upon illative, absolute, conditional 
or exceptive phrases. The fragments of this melody, occurring 
in prose declamation, in poetry, and in the drama, are generally 
of limited extentj and common speech when- not plainly didactic 
nor designedly solemn, nor unavoidably dullj in the heedless cur 
rent of its intonations, almost effaces the simple lines of the 
thoughtive second, by the vivid coloring of its widely-varied 
intervals. 



THE RISING SECOND. 287 

The diatonic melodyj far as practicable with our intermingling 
divisions^ is assigned restrictively, to a character of discourse 
called narrative; and it being desirable^ this melody should be 
executed with the greatest propriety and elegance, we must care- 
fully regard the uses of the interval of the second for the attain- 
ment of these ends. 

This proper second of the diatonic melody, not having the 
vocal expression of other intervals, is limited in its effective char- 
acter, to the means of time, and stress, on its own simple con- 
crete, and wave. The different forms of stress applicable to a 
simple concrete rise of the second, will be described in a future 
section. The other principal means for adding dignity and grace 
to this plain melody, is that of a long quantity; by continuing 
the upward into the downward tone, in the form of a Wave. It 
is not however, prolongation alone, that produces a clear and 
agreeable effect, in a dignified form of diatonic speech. That 
length should be made in the equable concrete movement; and 
further, the wave, as well as the simple rise, should have the 
initial fulness, and gradual termination, except otherwise varied 
by the purposes of stress. He who has not cultivated his voice 
in these particulars, will find it difficult to give extended length 
to an indefinite sylable, with its coexistent equability and vanish ; 
and will, on trial, be very apt to carry out a long quantity, with 
the intonation of song. But if he will throw away some of his 
conventional thought, about a ' Natural Turn' for things; and all 
his vain conceit about self-sufficient 'Genius,' and 'promptings of 
the heart;' cease to beleve, that a good elocution is coeval with 
the first cries of infancy; and then set himself to learn the rudi- 
ments, and overcome the difficulties of this elegant art; the light 
and guidance of knowledge and principles may lead him to an 
unerring command over the equable concrete, and to the attain- 
ment of every propriety of speech. 

Facility in managing long quantities on indefinite sylables, 
with a precision of interval, and a smoothness and nicety of 
vanish in the execution of this equable movement, is one of the 
most effective resources of a speaker. The skilful performance 
of this concrete function, in the impressive fulness and dignity of 
the Orotund, gives that ear-felt satisfaction, when an accomplished 



288 THE CHROMATIC 

Actor, as I have heard it, with his masterly command of voice, 
first takes part in the dialogue, even on a solitary sylable: while 
the Young 'Genius of Inspiration,' stooping for help to Green 
Room traditions; and distracted perhaps by a buzz in the audi- 
ence, or a mistake of his Costumer, is obliged to work through a 
whole act, before he is able to feel himself, as he calls it, up to 
the full power of his voice. But science, with time, is always 
ready to prevent, though it can rarely cure, the obstinacy of 
ignorance and conceit. 



SECTION XIX. 

Of the Interval of the Rising Semitone; and of the Chromatic 
Melody founded thereon. 

The smallest but not the least important division of the scale, 
through which the radical and vanish may be heard and measured, 
is the interval of a Semitone. In the second section of this essay, 
we learned the means for acquiring a distinct perception of this 
concrete interval. It was there saidj if, in ascending the scale, 
the effect of the transition from the seventh to the eighth place is 
compared with the sylabic utterance of a plaintive state of mind, 
their identity will be acknowledged. This interval from the 
seventh to the eighth, in the diatonic scale, is a semitone. It is 
used in speech for the expression of complaint, pity, grief, plain- 
tive supplication, and other states allied to these. 

In ascending through the diatonic scale, by a repetition of the 
word fire, subdivided into two sylables, with a prefix of the sub- 
tonic y-e to the last, so that fi and yer shall be alternately set on 
successive points of the scalej the transition from the seventh to 
the eighth place, when the word is contracted to its single sylabic 
state of fire, gives by its radical i, passing into its vanish rj the 
same plaintive expression it has through the streets, in the outcry 
of alarm. 

Intonation by the concrete semitone is universally, the sign of 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 289 

animal distress; and when exemplified by the scale, the effect 
is very different from that of the concrete passage of the word as 
a single sylable, through the space of a whole tone, between its 
first and second degrees. Among a multitude of voices where the 
alarm of fire is given by public cry, this utterance through the 
second is occasionally heard; and perhaps some of my Readers 
may be able to call to mind the defect of its unsympathizing dif- 
ference from the plaintive intonation of the great majority. It 
cannot be exemplified by the pen; but when the uncommon im- 
pression of a particular cry, among a number, is not produced by 
vocality or by shrilness, it generally arises from this misapplied 
form of pitch. Without the means of close acquaintance with 
men, they may be estimated by certain characteristics of their 
classes; and though our judgments in the case may sometimes be 
erroneous, there is often truth, and always caution in this method 
of opinion. Be this as it may, I never hear the phlegmatic cry 
of fire, through a whole tone, particularly in the Thorough stress, 
without a persuasion of the general impotence or deformity of 
the voice or the ear, that in this particular, can so far transgress 
the ordination of nature.* 

The semitone is employed for moderate degrees of expression ; 

* Since the first publication of this Work, in eighteen hundred and twenty- 
seven, the practice of outcry in the streets of Philadelphia, has in eighteen hun- 
dred and fifty-five^ the date of this Note^ entirely passed away. Instead therefore 
of being as formerly, arouzed in the stilness of midnight, by the Watchman's 
hollow Orotund, to the plaintive interests and solemn contrasts of near and 
distant solitary cries, awakening our safety, to sympathy with the perils of a 
conflagration; hear what we have now, under the prosperous onward-ism of our 
great political, moral, and esthetic 'mission:' the Alarm-bells of a whole city 
at once; the jangling clappers of Hose-carriages without number; the ceaseless 
roar of inarticulate trumpets ; the screams of boys ; the yells of men ; the 
wrangling preparations for a street-fight ; the owd-shouting shouts, upon the 
first volley of' stones ; the discharge of revolvers ; the uproar of a thousand 
brutal throats; and the cautious absence of a ' non-committal' republican police. 
After the Imperial Roman had robbed-out every Treasury, every Temple, and 
every private purse, within reach of his quarrelsome and ruthless sword, his 
avaricious courage failed; and the Barbarian came back, and down upon him 
in righteous revenge. We, by rapacious Treaties, and Civilized Craft, are pur- 
suing and exterminating the Native Indian from his Land. But Hah! with 
retributive justice, he seems, in the forced submission of his retreat, to have 
thrown to the winds, his gross and unlawed temper ; which now, like a national 
malaria, is spreading an avenging savagism among his conquerors. 



200 THE CHROMATIC 

and rarely for great energy, harshness, or violence of passion. 
It affects generally a sIoav time and long quantity. The inter- 
jective exclamations of pain, grief, love, and compassion, are 
prolongations of the tonic elements on this interval. But the 
effect of its rapid concrete is distinctly perceptible, on the short 
time of immutable sylables. For it will be found by experiment, 
that the word cup, with other immutables, can be uttered with a 
plaintive intonation, even in its shortest time. As this plaintive- 
ness, so distinctly measurable on short quantity, is always pro- 
duced by the concrete semitone, and not by any other known 
intervalj it may be fairly concluded, that when heard on an im- 
mutable s}^able, the semitone is rapidly performed, even though 
the gradual course of its time and motion is imperceptible ; show- 
ing the plaintive use of the semitone, to be within the general law 
of intonationj and that every interval is heard, in both the slow 
and the rapid concrete, as the different times of sylables direct. 

In the next section, we shall learn the uses of the downward 
vanishing movement. It is necessary however, to consider here 
transiently, the downward vanish of the semitone; this being one 
of the constituents of the chromatic melody of speech, now to be 
described. 

The downward radical and vanishing semitone may be exem- 
plified on the scale, by passing from the eighth to the seventh on 
the word fire, as one sylable^ and descending, alternately by the 
subdivisions fi and yer to the second, where the single sylable is 
again to be used. The concrete movement on the single sylable 
fire, from the eighth degree to the seventh has a plaintive expres- 
sion ; whereas the movement on the same sylable, from the second 
to the first, has quite a different character. When therefore the 
voice rises on the single sylable, concretely through the semitone, 
at the summit of the scale, and immediately in continuation de- 
scends through it, this repetition of the interval must prolong the 
plaintive impression. As the pathetic state which dictates the 
semitone usually affects a slow time, and, an extension of sylabic 
quantity, the expression is generally made by continuing its up- 
ward into its downward concrete, in the form of a Wave. This 
answers two important purposes. It denotes more impressively 
the state of mind, by a repetition of the interval, and in extend- 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 291 

ing the equable concrete in the line of contrary flexure, allows a 
prolongation of voice, without its liability to pass into the pro- 
tracted radical or protracted vanish of song. The expressive 
effect of this doubled semitone may be exemplified on the word 
fire, as a single sylable, by making an immediate return in the 
downward direction, on the subtonic r, after ascending to the top 
of the scale on the tonic i of that word: for this exactly resem- 
bles the plaintive utterance of a prolonged sylabic time in speech. 

The states of mind expressed by the semitone, are sometimes re- 
stricted to individual words; sometimes they extend over phrases 
and sentences, and even throughout discourse. These last occa- 
sions, requiring the semitone on every sylable, necessarily pro- 
duce a melody consisting of a continued succession of that in- 
terval. We learned in the eighth section, that the current of 
the Diatonic melody is formed by successions of sylabic pitch 
through the interval of a whole tone. The current movement 
we are now describing, being through the sylabic pitch of a semi- 
tone, may be called the Semitonic or, by a term taken from the 
scale of -music, the Chromatic Melody. Like the former, it is 
subdivided into the current melody, and the melody of the 
cadence. Its course may be resolved into seven Phrases, similar 
to those' in the diatonic progress. Yet the change by radical 
pitch in the chromatic current, as it appears to me, being through 
the interval of a tone, only when it descends, and not when it 
ascendsj the use of the nomenclature must be pardoned, when I 
denote the several semitonic phrases by the terms assigned to 
those of the diatonic melody. 

There is in the Chromatic Melody of speech, as in the Diatonic, 
neither Key, nor Modulation. A similar use of the seven phrases 
at the punctuative rest, for continuing, suspending, or closing the 
thought, is made in each ; and the same rule applied for varying 
the phrases of the current melody. But the expression of the 
chromatic, being generally more grave, or subdued than that of 
the diatonic, the former more frequently affects the phrase of the 
monotone. 

In describing the diatonic melody, its essential movements 
were subdivided into the concrete, and the radical pitch. The 
same distinctions occur in the course of the chromatic melody. 



292 THE CHROMATIC 

Its concrete pitch is always the interval of a semitone. Its radi- 
cal pitch, if I have not erred in observation, is conducted in the 
following manner. When the current melody descends, the radi- 
cal change is downward, over the space of a whole tone ; in as- 
cending, the radical change is upward over the space of a semi- 
tone. This change of a tone in descending, will be perceved on 
executing the downward ditone of a chromatic melody, and com- 
paring its effect with that of the first two constituents of the 
triad of the diatonic cadence: for if the downward radical pitch 
of a chromatic melody be followed by another downward radical, 
similar to the first ; or in other words, if we attempt to make a 
downward tritone in a plaintive intonation, the triad of the 
cadence will be thereby so nearly accomplished, that it requires 
for its consummation, only the faint downward vanish of that 
triad on its last constituent. Now the radical pitch of the triad 
of the cadence is formed of the successive descent of whole tones. 

The following considerations lead to the conclusion that a 
radical change in the upward direction, is in some cases made by 
the step of a semitone. By intonating the scale in the manner 
directed at the beginning of. this section, it will be perceved that 
after rising through the first semitone, on ft, the next sylable yer 
seems to begin at the top of that preceding concrete; making 
the radical change of the ascent in this case a semitone; and as 
every concrete of a chromatic melody is a semitone, it would fol- 
low, by the rule of the scale, that each successive sylable of a 
chromatic progression, when the radical pitch rises only one de- 
gree, must be at the distance of a semitone above the preceding. 
But it has been shown that the concrete pitch of this melody is, 
in slow utterance, generally continued into the returning down- 
ward vanish of the semitone, in the form of a wave; here then, 
the above cause for the radical change taking the interval of a 
semitone in its upward progress does not perhaps, apply. Whether 
in this case the subsequent upward radical change is by the semi- 
tone or the tone, I am not prepared to decide, with the confidence 
I have felt in the result of other observations recorded in this 
Work. 

In general, there is not much change of radical pitch in this 
melody; the monotone being its prevalent phrase. The question 



MELODY OP SPEECH. 293 

is however, left to the plain, and unargued observation of others ; 
not to be a subject for useless refinement and dispute; as such, 
it can be of no importance in the Practical Philosophy of Speech. 

It was said in a previous section, that the diatonic melody 
admits occasionally into its current the third, the fifth, and the 
octave. It may be asked^ in what manner these intervals, when 
required in the course of a chromatic melody, are engrafted upon 
it. They have a place in it, for the purpose both of plaintive in- 
terrogation and of emphasis; and are applied in the following 
manner. 

Plaintiveness being the characteristic of this melody^ when an 
interrogative word requires the rise of either the octave, fifth, or 
third, it is conclusive^ the expression both of the semitone, and 
of that wider interval should be conjoined. By a direct rise of 
the interval, beyond the limit of the semitone, the plaintive ex- 
pression would be lost. These two apparently incompatible 
effects therefore can be united on one sylable, for the purpose of 
chromatic interrogation or for emphasisj only by leading the 
voice in the form of a wave, through the upward into the down- 
ward semitone on the appointed sylable ; and from the extremity 
of this downward vanish, continuing the upward concrete of the 
octave, fifth, or third, as the intended interrogation, or the em- 
phasis may require; thus forming what we called in the second 
section, a double-unequal wave. When the peculiar keenness 
ascribed to the octave is recolected, it must at once be supposed^ 
it is rarely found among the signs of semitonic interrogation ; the 
less impressive third or fifth being commonly used for this pur- 
pose. Perhaps the Reader may not here require an ilustration 
of the chromatic melody, by the staff. The precision I have 
endeavored to give to the terms of this subject will it is hoped, 
enable him to comprehend it without delineation, or to mark the 
tablature for himself.* 

* I here give place to the Reader; for surely, by a knowledge of our manner 
of ilustration, he can easily draw the appropriate symbols. 

It is the great recommendation of a System of Elocution, derived from the 
pure and living Fountain of investigated Nature, whence every clear and use- 
ful stream of knowledge flowsj that its effective ways and means may be re- 
corded, and its available benefit diffused and perpetuated. But it is worthy of 
notice on this subject, as on most others, that exactness of science, either from 



204 THE CHROMATIC 

The cadence of a chromatic melody is made by a peculiar con- 
struction of the triad. 

The Reader on experiment will find, there is no other means for 
reaching the full and satisfactory pause of discourse, on three dis- 
tinct sylables, than that of the diatonic cadence, formed by the 
radical descent of three whole tones, as noted in the first and 
second diagrams of the cadence, in the eighth section. Conse- 
quently the chromatic triad must be made by a similar radical 
descent; for a downward triad of three semitones would make no 
more than a tone and a half. But in the chromatic melody, the 
concrete pitch or vanish of these radicals* which descend by three 
whole tonesj is made through the space of a semitone; and the 
plaintive character of the melody is thereby communicated to its 
close. 

It is to be remarked here, that a sentence requiring the chro- 
matic intonation, may sometimes be terminated by the plain dia- 
tonic triad, whether the close is made on separate, or on con- 
joined constituents ; and further, that unimportant words and 
short quantities in a chromatic sentence, may receve a radical 
and vanishing whole tone, without destroying the plaintive ex- 
pression ; provided the semitone is heard on all accented, and 
long quantities : though more commonly the short and unaccented 
sylables bear the rapid semitonic concrete. 

The forms of the Diatonic cadence, which may be occasion- 
ally applied to a chromatic melody, are described in the eighth 
section. I here consider the cadence that bears a plaintive ex- 
pression. 

The chromatic cadence may be made on a single long sylable ; 

the confident quietude of its progress, or its freedom from ill-tempered con- 
troversy, has always been the least sought, if not the last desired, where they 
cannot see their personal interest in it, by the mass of even the so-called wiser 
part of mankind. And certainly, it is not a little remarkable, in regarding all 
the Five Modes of the voicej that Pitch, with its exact intervals of vocal Into- 
nation, ever unalterable in nature, and the only one'precisely describable under 
definite forms and degrees^ should be that particular Mode, of the Five, which 
has been, and still is declared net only to be unknown, but to be beyond the 
reach of future discovery. And all this, because somebody first said so; and 
then ovcry following individual of the earless and unthinking Flock said so, 
after him. 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 295 

or it may be allotted to two sylables ; or the space of its descent 
may be divided between three. 

When the three vocal constituents are joined severally to three 
separate sylables, the close is made by taking the radicals, at the 
interval of a whole tone successively in descent; and by giving 
to each of the constituents, except the last, the rising vanish 
of a semitone; for it has the feeble downward vanish of the 
diatonic close. This is exemplified by the following diagram ; 
where the vanish, and the upward change of radical pitch in the 
current melody, are both to be taken as a semitone; and the 
downward radical, either as a whole tone or a semitone ; for I 
leave this as a questionable point. 



Pit tj the sor rows of a poor old 


man. 


| 4 4 4 <f 4 4 4 4 4 


' ^ 



It is true,' the last constituent may terminate with a downward 
semitone; or may rise through a semitone, and then in continua- 
tion descend concretely below the pitch of its radical; thus carry- 
ing the plaintive expression on the unequal direct wave, to the 
very close. In this case however, the perception of the cadence 
will not be so complete as when made according to the above 
notation. 

The chromatic triad is also made, by continuing the rising 
semitone into a wave, and carrying its downward concrete into 
the full body of the succeding radical : or otherwise by the down- 
ward concrete, meeting the radical, but not coalescing with it. 
In the latter case only, can the radical receve an abrupt ful- 
ness. A cadence is therefore more complete, with the radicals 
thus strongly marked ; as in the following diagram : 



A 


poor 


old 


man. 


* * ^j^^ 


» -• 



When the plaintive cadence is restricted to two sylables, they 
may be connected in like manner, by the wave of the semitone on 



296 THE CHROMATIC 

the first constituent of the triad, continued downward to the last; 
either by carrying the downward concrete into the full body of its 
radical, or by its only meeting, but not coalescing with it; which 
case is here ilustrated : 



A 


poor 


old 


man. 


4 


4 


/ ^ 










^\ 



The Reader can draw for himself, two diagrams, in other re- 
spects similar to the above, but with the downward line enlarging 
into the radicals, as it joins them, for the coalescing form: in 
which case there will be a swelling fulness of voice, at the place 
of the radicals, without a break in the line. 

There may be a chromatic descent on a single long sylable ; 
though it should never be used in correct speech, except for 
some special design of expression, unconnected with the cadence. 
To distinguish it, as a chromatic close, from the feeble diatonic 
cadence, it is necessary, by the previous rise of a semitone, to 
give it a plaintive character. The continuation of this rising 
semitone into a downward terminative concrete forming an un- 
equal direct wave, may have the effect of a close ; but it has at the 
same time, a whining intonation, altogether foreign to the desira- 
ble and appropriate character of the chromatic cadence. 

There is still another form of the Chromatic close, resembling 
the skipping, or false cadence of the diatonic melody. It consists 
of a concrete semitone on the antepenult sylable, and an im- 
mediate discrete descent by the radical pitch to the final con- 
stituent of the triad; omitting the second altogether. We do not 
need a diagram of this form ; it is shown by the above example 
of notation, supposing it to be without the descending concrete, 
which there meets the final constituent. It is rarely used as a 
close; and only when a peculiar emphasis may be required on 
the last word of the sentence. 

As in the diatonic cadence, so in the chromatic, there are dif- 
ferent degrees of repose ; and these depend on its construction. 
That entire consummation, required at the period of discourse, is 
effected by the triad form in the first of the above notations. 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 297 

The second which is still a triad, with its three constituents meet- 
ing, but not coalescing by the downward vanish, has as strongly 
marked a character as- the first. The coalescing form denotes 
less repose; there being no abrupt fulness of the radical, the 
cadence will be less impressive, for it is this conspicuous display 
of a descent by radical pitch which produces the remarkable eifect 
of a vocal period. The third construction represented above, is 
the feeble form of the chromatic cadence; for being upon only 
two sylables, it has not the full effect of the downward change of 
radical pitch when made on three; and therefore falls short of the 
expression required for a satisfactory close. 



In concluding this history of the five rising concrete and dis- 
crete intervals, jmd of their uses in elocution, I have only to 
add that the Fourth, Sixth, and Seventh may be employed for 
interrogative, and emphatic expression, respectively similar to 
that of the third, fifth, land octave. But the third, fifth, and 
octave, severally adjacent to those other intervals, are by some 
constitution of the ear, more easily recognized as definite points, 
on the instrumental scale, and in the discrete movements of the 
human voice. On this account the enumeration in the preceding 
sections has been limited to the semitone, second, third, fifth, and 
octave of the diatonic scale. I have not particularly inquired 
into the character of the remaining fourth, sixth and seventh; 
nor of any fractional extensions of the concrete of the other 
five; belevingj they only express unimportant variations in de- 
gree, of the states of mind conveyed by those we have particularly 
described. 

In all the foregoing descriptions of the forms and effects of 
the various concretes, they have been represented as bounded by 
fixed degrees of the scale. Yet it has just been said, that besides 
the second, third, fifth, and octave, other intermediate variations 
of these intervals may be used, as vocal synonyms in speech. 
This leads to an inquiry; how far any definitely marked extent 
should be assigned to the several intervals. It is therefore neces- 
20 



298 THE CHROMATIC 

sary to be more particular on this point ; and to answer my own 
question* whether the attenuated close of the vanish does impress 
the ear with the exact place of a musical interval on the scale. I 
might scarcely have noticed this subject, had not the possibility of 
measuring, at all, the intonations of speech, been almost univer- 
sally denied; and had I not thought this old prejudice, even after 
w r hat has been shown, might when driven to its corner, make a 
desperate defense, by some unnecessary refinement on this very 
question. I do not say, the stops, as they may be called, of the 
vanish, if even sufficiently exact for all practical purposes, as I 
beleve them to bej are so strongly impressed on the ear, as those 
marked with a precise note, either by song or on instruments. 
And although a want of measured accuracy in the equable con- 
crete, may not be as readily perceved, as in these two cases, still, 
great accuracy on this point, is not required in speech. In music, 
with its precise notes of the discrete scale, false intonation is im- 
mediately obvious, even in the successions of melody; and in the 
coexistent notes of harmony, the effect is still more remarkable. 
But speech is a solo, as well as a concrete performance, and 
therefore, any slight want of accuracy at the point of the vanish, 
even if perceptible, is nevertheless, under my observation, of very 
little consequence. If our States of mind were marked in de- 
gree, by nice and palpable distinctions, it would be proper to 
express them, by like gradations in the voice. Still, as in the 
grammatical variation of adjectives, the three degrees sufficiently 
distinguish, for common occasions, the countless shades of com- 
parisonj so with the interrogative intervals, a difference of third, 
fifth and octave, is sufficient for present practical use of their 
vocal expression. 

The Second it has been shown, has what we call a plain dia- 
tonic character, appropriate to narrative, or unimpassioned dis- 
course. It may then be asked, whether a want of precision, in 
marking the interval would destroy that character. By my 
observation, it would not; provided the variation is slight, and 
not diminished one half, down to a semitone, nor extended half a 
tone, up to a minor third ; the former producing a plaintive ex- 
pression, and the latter, as a fault, being inadmissible into speech. 
Should the voice, in executing this and various other intervals, 



MELODY OF SPEECH. 299 

even excede, or fall short of the exact points of the scale, by any 
minute degree, let others more fastidious, decide the question of 
its impropriety. To my ear however, for all the precision re- 
quired by this case, there is in the educated voice, no deviating 
intonation at the close of the vanish, that would ever mar, when 
all else is right, the purpose of a correct and elegant elocution. 

And here we may observe, that the Enharmonic quarter-tone of 
six parts, the semitone being twelvej as proportionally arranged 
in the Greek scale, described in our first section^ can have no 
place, or if place, no effect, in correct or natural speech. I do 
not however, say, that in the random efforts of the voice, some 
concrete or discrete interval, upwards, or downwards, and dif- 
fering by a quarter-tone or any other fraction, greater or less, 
from those we have assigned to speech, may notj in the irregulari- 
ties, and sometimes even in the intended proprieties of utterance, 
be employed: but we must now perceve enough of the great circle 
of speech, to satisfy us, that for a perceptible, practical, and un- 
metaphysical system of the voice, these transcendental degrees 
of intonation, for any of our intents, do not deserve a further 
notice. 

Admitting absolute precision of interval to be a matter of im- 
portance, the command over it might be easily acquired; for the 
vanish cannot be attenuated beyond the ability of the ear to 
measure it. The place in pitch, of a prolonged note of song, 
with what is called a diminuendo, is still conizable, as long as it 
is heard; and to a studious observer it is equally so in the vanish, 
or diminuendo of a concrete interval of speech; though the state 
of mind is conveyed more forcibly by the louder voice. How far 
this accuracy of intonation may be required in speech, when we 
shall have arranged the present chaos of the Human Intelect, 
into some efficacious system of exact perception, with no dis- 
honest purpose, must be determined by time. From the past, 
present, and prospective disorderly state of our thoughts and 
passions, I have, in this essay, probably assigned more definite 
degrees, and forms of intonation, either true or false, than will 
ever be required by the greater part of oratorical mankind. 

If this trifling matter is really indeterminable, let it be ex- 
cluded, with all like refinements, from what should be a Practical, 



300 THE CHROMATIC MELODY OF SPEECH. 

not a Contentious system of elocution. Those who have so dog- 
matically asserted the impossibility of measuring, what they call 
the 'tones of the voice,' could not have refered merely to the 
point of exactness here under consideration. For had the- re- 
nowned Adam Smithj who, as one of the number, may fairly 
represent themj only carried his sagacious powers of inquiry into 
the subject of the human voice, he would have clearly observed, 
that with so many satisfying proprieties and beauties, in the 
natural system of speech, the determination of this question is of 
little, if any importance in the extended views of an effective 
elocution.* 

* I regret to have been obliged to notice in this place, what our system 
regards as a fatal error in the writings of this able and elegant Observer: 
and although differing widely from him on the subject before us, I am happy to 
pay the due respect to his character as a Philosopher, in pausing for a mo- 
ment, to find a sufficient cause, if not an apology, for his error, by inquiring-* 
why, with his eminent powers of analysis and of arrangement, he did not closely 
apply them, to the investigation of Speech, when he had once thought it 
worthy of his general reflections. Adam Smith, with his means for wide survey, 
and for Humiliating definition and division, and when triumphantly applying 
them, to gather into a regular system of Political Economy, those scattered 
facts and principles, on the wealth of nations^ which many a statesman must 
have thought, as irreducible to order, as the supposed immeasurable and inde- 
finable constituents of the speaking voices has, after a purposed inquiry, left 
us, what I unwillingly record of hinij his undisguised belief in the deep or end- 
less concealment of the forms of Intonation. 

In the short and last paragraph of his 'Reflections on the Imitative Arts,' he 
saysj 'As the sounds or tones of the singing voice can be ascertained or appro- 
priated^ [that is, put to proper use$) while those of the speaking voice can-not; 
the former are capable of being noted or recorded^ [that is, of being represented 
by symbols, or described by words;) while the latter can-not.' I do not here, by 
verbal controversy, meet the error of his belief; having throughout this volume, 
furnished the argument, in its substantial facts. But as he might himself 
probably have anticipated our record of those facts, had he trusted to his own 
resources^ I shall endeavor to show, that by following-up his method of inquiry 
and explanation, why he did not. 

To prepare for the above final declaration that the 'tones' of the speaking- 
voice cannot be ascertained, he begins with remarking^ 'A person may sing 
affectedly, by endeavoring to please by sounds and tones which are unsuitable 
to the nature of the song:' and again, 'The disagreeable affectation (in song) 
appears to consist always, in attempting to please, not by a proper, but by an 
improper modulation of the voice.' Here is a plain statement of the cause of 
the impropriety of affectation; it is unsuitable to the 'nature' or purpose 'of 
the song:' and it applies equally to all intonation ; but Mr. Smith, unfortunately 



DOWNWARD RADICAL AND VANISHING MOVEMENT. 301 



SECTION XX. 

Of the Downward Radical and Vanishing Movement. 

The functions of pitch hitherto described, are performed prin- 
cipally by a rising progress of the concrete, and of the radical 
change. 

In an early page of this essay we learned, that the voice takes 
a reverse direction; that the radical movement, opening with ful- 

stopping short in the just course of his investigation, refers it exclusively to 
that of song. He then procedes to state, how we know the disagreeable and 
affected ' sounds or tones ' of song to be improper. 

It having been, as he remarks, early ascertained^ I report his meanings that 
strings or chords of different lengths, or tensions, do in their respective vibra- 
tions, bear a measurable proportion to each others the several sounds or notes of 
these vibrating chords, and the intervals between them, become measurable, 
and by terms, assignable for all their proper purposes. With this precise dis- 
crimination, and a corresponding nomenclature, it was easy to compare the re- 
lations of chordal, or instrumental sounds, with those of the singing voice, to 
name them, and to describe those suitable or not, to their purpose^ and therefore 
proper or improper in song. 

So far, the course of the explanation is in Mr. Smith's usually strict and ele- 
mentary manner, clear and instructive ; and had he continued in this path of 
observation and experiment, it would have led, through a similar process, to a 
recognition of the intervals of Speech^ and then, easily to their full development. 
From that path however, as all others had done, he turned aside ; dropped the 
directive wand of analogy ; and instead of likening the intervals of speech to 
those of song, and then ascertaining the truth by experiment ; just as the in- 
tervals of song had at first been thought, and then proved to be like those of 
measurable chords^ he on the contrary, endeavored to showj there is no per- 
ceptible similarity between the intervals of speech and of song ; having appar- 
ently been misled, in this way. At the moment he turned from the path of 
analogy and proof, the self-dependent habit of his mind deserted him, to con- 
form with a traditional authority ; and he was told by all around him^ First : 
That the 'sounds or tones' of the singing voice are more numerous, more dis- 
tinct, and of greater extent than those of speech ; which as a groping notion, 
crossing the onward track of truth, confused, at the start the scent of inquiry. 
And Second: That while the former can be measured by the constant propor- 
tions of musical chords^ the latter can-not ; which authority, put the chase so 
entirely at fault, as to end all hopes of the pursuit. These opinions having 



302 THE DOWNWARD RADICAL 

ness at a given place on the scale, descends through its destined 
interval, with the same equable concrete structure and diminish- 
ing force which characterize the upward vanish. We must now 
consider the varieties of form in the downward concrete, the occa- 
sions of its use, and the character of its expression. 

The downward progress of the voice is made through all the 
intervals of the scale. In like manner with the rise, the descent 
is both by a concrete movement, and by a discrete change or skip 
of radical pitch. The characteristic effect of the descent, either 
concretely, or by discrete skip^ and the expression of the several 
intervals, may be learned by the following experiments. 

Let the Reader express himself with astonishment, on the ex- 
clamatory phrase, well done; assuming the first word at a high 
pitchj bringing down the last concretely from that hight, on its 
prolonged quantity^ and uttering the phrase as if it were the 
close of a sentence. Should the intonation on the word done, be 
measured by the scale, it will in his yet unskilful attempt, exem- 
plify the Downward concrete Octave, or near it. Again, let the 

been adopted by Mr. Smith, it necessarily never occurred to him to endeavor 
to form a sort of experimental and comparative equation between the measura- 
ble intervals of song, and the unknown and required intervals of speech^ as- 
serted universally, and beleved by himself, to be imperceptible. This by his 
own, and by general belief justifiably closed the investigation; and here Mr. 
Smith left it : having sought, as it would seem, only some assignable interval, 
however minute, between the indefinitely small increments of the fluxionary 
concrete of speech-; an inquiry of no practical importance^ instead of compar- 
ing, the obvious interval between the beginning and the end of that concrete, 
and the discrete intervals between these two extremes, with the concrete interval 
of song, and the discrete, of the musical scale; for a knowledge of their identity 
would have opened a view of causes and effects, throughout the then deep 
mystery of Speech. Mr. Smith's adopted authority prevented his making this 
simple comparison and conclusion ; and he unfortunately, and most unlike 
himself, left the subject where he found it. If instead of being satisfied with 
the argumentative difference between these two cases, he had only dropped his 
'reasoning' and raised the Baconian Kite of experiment, his verbal conformity 
with the learned rotine of the schools, would on the first flash of observation 
have been surprised, and his candid discernment philosophically delighted, by 
the discovered identity of so many of the measurable constituents of music and 
of Speech. 

Let any one who is confirmed in the creed of this volume, read the article 
here quoted, and he will be struck by the error and the evil of an individual 
who can observe and think, relying implicitly on a world of those who do not. 



AND VANISHING MOVEMENT. 303 

interjection, heigh-ho, be made with a degree of emphasis that 
may throw these two sylables on the extremes of the compass of 
the natural voice. The transition from the elevated pitch of 
heigh, to the inferior place of ho, will be by a discrete or skip- 
ping descent. This transition, when measured by the scale, ilus- 
trates the downward Radical pitch of the octave, or near it. 

The Downward Fifth may in like manner be distinguished, 
both in its concrete pitch and its discrete radical change, by 
respectively applying them to the words of the preceding exam- 
plesj but with less emphatic force, and with a less striking into- 
nation. 

The concrete Descent of the Third may be heard, by pronounc- 
ing the word No, as the last word of a sentence; observing to 
give it some length, and to exclude every expression, except the 
simple indication of the cadence. The downward Radical pitch 
or skip of the third, may be exemplified by pronouncing the 
phrase made an attach, as a full close; giving the sylables, made 
an at, in the monotone, and making the satisfactory close on tack. 
For, the sylable, at, being the first constituent of the triad; and 
by its short quantity, incapable of completing the cadence through 
a descent of the slow concrete, the voice of necessity leaps over 
the place of the second constituent, and closes on tack, in the 
proper point of the third. 

The effect of the Downward concrete Second or tone may be 
heard on the last constituent of the diatonic triad; and the radi- 
cal change of the second, in the descent of the constituents of 
the same cadence^ for its radicals succede each other by the down- 
ward difference of a tone. 

The downward concrete of the Semitone was described in the 
last section, as plaintively obvious in the vocal transition from the 
eighth to the seventh place of the scale. If the downward change 
of Radical pitch, in a chromatic melody, is like that of its cadencej 
which however, in the last section, was stated as doubtfulj it fol- 
lows that we have no instance in current speech, of the discrete 
downward semitone. But we leave this for future observers. 

If the Reader is by this time, expert in ascending both con- 
cretely and discretely, through every interval of the scale, he 
may, after ascending, immediately return through the same inter- 



304 DOWNWARD RADICAL AND VANISHING MOVEMENT. 

val, with the impression of its extent upon his ear ; and by prac- 
tice on all the intervals, become familiar with the different degrees 
and characters of the downward movement, both in its concrete 
and discrete forms. 

We have considered the downward movement on long quanti- 
ties; and although, like the rising progress, it may be rapidly 
performed on immutable sylables ; yet when the expression of a 
downward interval is required on them, the transition as with the 
upward, is generally made by the change of radical pitch. 

The expressive powers of the downward radical and vanish 
will be assigned, in a future consideration of the particular inter- 
vals of the scale. As a general remark on its character, it may 
be said, in contrast to the interrogative effect of the rising Third, 
Fifth, and Octave, that the downward progress through these in- 
tervals, both concretely and by radical pitch, denotes positive 
affirmation; directly the reverse of doubt, implied in a ques- 
tion. Some other inquirer may hereafter, more accurately refer 
this expression of the downward concrete, to a general class of 
phenomena in vocal science; and satisfy the demands of philos- 
ophy. I cannot however, withhold the question^ yet wishing to be 
cautious with mere analogical inferencej whether the positiveness 
may arise from its conjoining with an emphatic import, a certain 
degree of the decisive character of the cadence; for this seems to 
preclude the expectation of further doubt or reply, by a satisfac- 
tory repose of the ultimate intonation on a finished meaning or 
thought. In support of this, let us bring to mind, that the repli- 
cations of doubtful argument, from a submissive courtesy between 
speakers, are not so often marked by complete cadences as the 
decisive character in many of the phrases would otherwise bear. 
Yet we know, that when assertions become authoritative from 
truth, or dogmatic from opinion, the closing descent of the 
cadence is freely employed as the definite seal of self-confident 
affirmation. 

After all however, Truth, the strict monitor of philosophy, re- 
proves us for our conjectures, and allows us here, only to set-forth 
this new instance of consistency in the ordinations of nature : for 
as the mental state of inquiry is contrary to that of assured 
declaration^ so in the instinct of the voice expressing these oppo- 



THE DOWNWAKD OCTAVE. 305 

site states, the very opposite courses of rise, and of fall, are em- 
ployed as their respective intonations. 

The downward movement, both in its concrete, and its discrete 
form, when used for emphasis, will be particularly described in a 
future section. It is perhaps as impressive on the ear, as the 
upward movement in its usual forms, but not in its piercing de- 
gree. Amazement, wonder, surprise, and admiration, when not 
conjoined with an interrogative meaning, generally assume this 
form of expression ; the extent of the interval being proportional 
to their respective degrees of energy. The downward movement 
differing from the upward, only by its taking a different direc- 
tion, we may look for a like characteristic construction in each. 
The same explosive fulness should distinguish the radical; the 
same equable movement, its descent; and the same delicate dimi- 
nution, its final vanish into silence. 

After these general remarks on the subject, we procede to the 
history of the particular intervals of the downward concrete. 



SECTION XXI. 

Of the Interval of the Downward Octave. 

The concrete Downward Octave, in addition to the expression, 
ascribed generally to the downward movement, conveys in the 
coloquial uses of the voice, the vivacity of facetious surprise, as 
in the instance of the phrase well done, given above. It is a 
sign of the passionative state of mindj and in the above example, 
is the very picture of amazement, and so to speak, raises the 
brow and opens the eye of the voice. In its more dignified uses, 
there is the highest degree of admiration, astonishment, and 
command, either alone or united with other mental states. The 
astonishment and positiveness expressed by this interval, may 
coexist with the complacency of mirth, with the repugnance of 
fear, contempt, hatred, and with almost any state of mind not 



306 THE DOWNWARD OCTAVE. 

incompatible with that of astonishment, and command. For 
though these states have other signs in expression, yet when they 
go with this high degree of astonishment, the downward octave 
is the true and only sign of the combination. 

In the following lines, from Milton's fifth book, the emphatic 
sylable of the word, enormous, may receve the downward Octave, 
as the sign of admiration, or of astonishment, just as the Reader 
may choose to regard it. 

For Nature here 
Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will 
Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 
Wild above rule or art ; eraormous bliss. 

As the same interval represents different mental conditions, it 
may be inquired^ what modification of its structure may be neces- 
sary. It was shown in the second section, that the concrete 
movement, in its upward, and in its downward direction, bears 
with distinguishable audibility, additional force or stress on the 
beginning, the middle, or the end of its progress through a pro- 
longed quantity. The application of a different stress to the 
downward octave, variously modifies its character. On the radi- 
cal, it denotes a high degree of mirthful wonder. On the middle 
of its course, by a swell at that place, the wonder becomes more 
serious and even repulsive. On the lower extreme, reversing 
thus the natural structure of the radical and vanish, it increases 
the degree of the repulsion, and mingles with it some slight ex- 
pression of anger and of scorn. This characteristic assigned to 
the octave, might at once assure us that it is of rare occurrence. 
It may be found occasionally in the intensity of coloquial excite- 
ment, and in the fervor of the drama: but rarely perhaps, in the 
course of narrative or plain description; the strained energy of 
its expression scarcely finding a place in melody, if not accom- 
panied by wider downward intervals, or wider waves. The pre- 
ceding example of the Octave if there applicable, may however, 
be taken as an exception. 

For an ilustration of the downward Radical Pitch of the 
octave; there is, in the first diagram of the fourteenth section, a 
notation of the fall of the voice, an octave from the upper cur- 
rent of melodyj supposed to be on immutable sylables^ to an 



THE DOWNWARD FIFTH. 307 

indefinite quantity, for the purpose of rising again through a 
concrete octave. This downward radical pitch has the same ex- 
pression as the downward concrete octave; and is employed in 
skipping from immutable sylables, in phrases of emphatic aston- 
ishment, admiration, and command. 



SECTION XXII. 

Of the Interval of the Downward Fifth. 

The last described interval variously denotes a quaint fami- 
liarity and an emphatic force of wonder or command. The Down- 
ward concrete Fifth has in many respects a similar expression; 
but it clothes its agreeable surprise, admiration, and authority, 
with greater dignity than the octave. This interval is often used 
on imperative phrases. Its concrete, like that of the octave, 
may be modified in meaning, by different applications of stress. 

In the following passages from Milton's fifth book, the words, 
own, himself all, fairest, and three, severally marked, may for 
their emphatic distinction, receve the downward fifth. 

Mean while our primitive great sire, to meet 
His God-like guest, walks forth, without more train 
Accompanied than with his own complete 
Perfections: in himself was all his state. 



But Eve 

Undeck'd save with herself, more lovely fair 
Than 'Wood-Nymph, or the fairest Goddess feign'd 
Of three that in mount Ida naked strove. 

When the Queen says to Hamletj 

If it be, [that is, if death be the common lot] 
Why seems it so particular with thee? 

Hamlet returns^ 

Seems, Madam, nay it is! I know not seems. 



308 THE DOWNWARD FIFTH. 

The word is, here represents the earnest surprise of the Prince, 
at the misconception of his real condition. And his solemn state 
of mind, which rejects, with indignation, the profanity of the 
supposition, that there is any formal show in the deep reality of 
his grief, cannot be expressed by the simple radical and vanish. 
There is a light surprise in this form of the concrete, unsuitable 
to the gravity of his reverentive state. If the voice is swelled 
to a greater stress as it descends, the severe and dignified con- 
viction of the speaker becomes at once remarkable. The into- 
nation of this line without, however, representing the swelling 
stress on the falling fifthj may be thus delineated: 




Here a rising third, or the most moderate form of interrogative 
expression, is set to the first word : for it includes a slight degree 
of surprised inquiry. The succeding clause, containing a positive 
affirmation, has the downward fifth on is; and the whole diagram 
is calculated to show the opposite powers of expression in the 
rising, and the falling intervals. In a future section, it will be 
shown why the radical of this emphatic downward movement 
is set, as here represented, so far above the line of the current 
melody. 

The Discrete transition of the falling fifth has the same ex- 
pression as its concrete form. It is used for sylables that do not 
bear the prolongation required for a slow concrete; the two 
extremes of the interval, as in all cases of discrete transition, 
either rising or falling, being on two different sylables. The 
following notation exemplifies the radical change or skip of the 
falling fifth: 

Yet Bru tus says he was am biti ous. 



THE DOWNWAKD FIFTH. 309 

This line, as it seems to me, requires the intonation of grave 
surprise rather than that of contemptuous contradiction, with 
which it is sometimes read; and this I have endeavored to ex- 
press, by the radical skip of a fifth, between the sylables of Bru- 
tus, and of biti-ous. The craft of Antony's oration, in Julius 
Csesar, turns upon the design to excite odium against the con- 
spirators, by a favorable representation of Caesar's virtues, rather 
than by the coloring of their crimes. And though in the well 
known sarcasm, they are reported to be 'honorable men,' cer- 
tainly not with the least approbation of the title ; still, the vocal 
curl of sneer, sometimes heard on the words just quoted, is inap- 
propriate and affected. At least it is so, in the early part of the 
oration : and when at last the speaker is encouraged to a bolder 
style of argument and language, it is that of anger and revenge; 
and these waste no time in the winding course of contemptuous 
intonation. But whatever may be said of other parts of the 
speech, I must claim for the above sentence, those downward in- 
tervals which express the surprise of the orator, that any one 
could so violently reverse the just conclusions to be drawn from 
the enumerated acts of Caesar: leaving the audience to infer from 
this surprise, that some other than ordinary or honest motives 
must have influenced Brutus to make the charge of ambition 
against him. Should the line be read in the common diatonic 
melody, with the difference of a tone only in the radical pitch 
of its emphatic words, it would report merely what Brutus had 
saidj without the least indication of the state of mind I have as- 
cribed to it, and endeavored to ilustrate by the preceding diagram. 






310 THE INTERVAL OF 



SECTION XXIII. 

Of the Interval of the Downward Third. 

The Downward Concrete Third has the expression of the fifth, 
in a more moderate degree. 

Dignity of vocal character, like that of personal gesture, con- 
sists not only in the slowness of time, and the restraint of forceful 
effort, but in a limitation within the widest range of movement. 
And as there is more composure in an interrogative rise by the 
thirdj so the expression of authority and admiration is most sub- 
dued on the descent of the same interval. 

One remarkable effect of the concrete descent of the third, on 
a single sylable of long quantity, is shown at the end of a mem- 
ber, or of a clause, containing a terminated thought^ although 
it may not be marked by the punctuation of a period. This use 
of the third was noticed and ilustrated in the eighth section, and 
there described as the feeble Cadence. Its character is not quite 
definite: for while indicating a close of thought at its place, it 
does not altogether prevent its further continuation. No one on 
hearing this cadence, would suppose the discourse to be neces- 
sarily finished. 

As the rising third is sometimes used for emphasis alone, in- 
dependently of its interrogative import; so the falling third may 
be employed without expressing surprise or command, soley for 
varying the effect of intonation. This may be ilustrated by the 
following diagram: 

None but the brave! None but the brave! 



4-^-^^f-^^^ 



None but the brave de serve the fair. 



^*=^-*^-*- 



THE DOWNWARD THIRD. 311 

Although no inquiry is conveyed by these lines, we have the 
rising interval of the third on one of the emphatic words. Yet 
there is a degree of admiration in the case, that may be ex- 
pressed by this upward third. And it will be shown hereafter 
that all emphatic words, whatever other states of mind they may 
excite, do convey something of the admirable. On this ground 
then the emphatic repetitions of the word brave might receve the 
same interval. The intonation is here varied by setting the plain 
rising second to the first brave, the downward third to the second, 
and the rising third to the last: this, together w T ith the falling 
third on the word none, in its third place, does produce at least a 
varied effect. I have described and represented these intonations 
as simple concretes; but the emphatic words being long quanti- 
ties, they require for a full effect, their appropriate form of the 
wave. Speakers who are not aware of the efficacy of intonation, 
and who cannot therefore skilfully command it, endeavor to attain 
a desirable variety in these lines, by a transfer of the emphasis of 
force; and apply it successively to none and but and brave. This 
I know, was, and perhaps still is the formula for these lines, in 
all our Schools and Colleges^ by the authority of English Elocu- 
tion. Regarding here the apparent purpose of the poet, and the 
consistent design of vocal expression, this variation is altogether 
inadmissible. The distinction made in this case, by applying 
stress to different words, in each repetition, gives different mean- 
ings to the phrase. But reiteration is the expressive sign of an 
accumulative energy of thought or passion; and never of its 
change. The attempt therefore to vary the meaning of this 
phrase, which must be identical under any change of emphasis, 
offends against both dignity and truth, and betrays a limited 
power over the ample means for vocal variety. A full command 
of quantity, and of the numerous forms of expression, renders it 
easy to releve the ear from monotony, without misrepresenting 
the author: for, if these lines were a prompting of poetry, and 
not like some other parts of the Ode, a monotonous trick of 
words, the purpose must have been intended, under any mental 
climax, to be one and the same, in all the repetitions. 

In the above notation, I have not ilustrated the uses of time, 
force, the tremor, and other forms of intonation, though all are 
available, and give additional means for variety. 



312 THE INTERVAL OF 

The downward radical pitch of the third is employed for em- 
phasis, on immutable sylables. But it has a particular use in 
effecting an impressive consummation of the close of melody. 
In the eighth section it was shown, that different species of the 
cadence denote various degrees of repose; the second tripartite 
form, in which each of the radicals with its downward vanish, is 
heard distinctly in successive descent, being the most marked in- 
dication of the period. It is possible however, to increase the 
characteristic of this form, by additional means. When a melody 
is in the higher range of pitch, a gradual descent of the current, 
as it approaches the cadence, may be properly employed for that 
purpose. Yet it is more elegant and impressive, to apply the 
downward radical change of a third, with either a rising or falling 
concrete, according to the effect desired, on some sylable preced- 
ing the close ; as in the following notation : 



Through 


E den took their 


sol i ta ry way. 


4 


4 4 4 


4 '4 *\ m _ 1 


w- 


4 


W ^\\ 



When this line is read throughout, with only the radical 
change of a secondj the cadence with its three descending radicals 
and concretes, does mark a completion of the thought ; but the 
radical skip of a downward third, from den to took, gives that 
warning of the period, or that note of preparation, which pro- 
duces the utterly reposing conclusion, required by the audience, 
and due by the reader, at the termination of Paradise Lost. 
The last line of Pope's translation of the Iliad may be read to 
the same notation. 'And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's 
shade.' It does not appear, in this form of the Cadence, that 
the sylable should be emphatic, except for its preparatory pur- 
pose; or that it should be, in different, sentences, at any fixed 
distance from the cadence. Nor is a choice forbidden, between 
words more or less removed from the close, in the same sentence. 
In the two preceding examples of iambic lines, it falls on the 
ce'sura of a like foot, in each. In the following, from the final 
Benediction of the Church-service, it occurs immediately preced- 



THE DOWNWARD THIRD. 313 

ing the Triad. * The fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with us all 
evermore.' In the fulfilment of Elisha's imprecation on Gehazi, 
it may be placed either on the sixth or ninth sylable before the 
cadence, and perhaps on both. 'And he went out from his pre- 
sence, a leper as white as snow.' It is to be remarked here, that 
a concrete downward third or fifth may serve the same terminative 
purpose; and that in each case this emphatic distinction should 
not be given to a trivial word that does not deserve it. 

Other cadences denote, in various degrees, the conclusion of 
a particular thought. This Prepared Cadence, if we may so call 
it, implies that the subject itself of a paragraph, a chapter, or 
a volume, is finished. I leave future observers, to perceve other 
phenomena on this subject, and to lay down rules for construction 
and for choice. 

In the eighth section, five forms of the cadence are named. 
The Prepared, which is however, no more than a stressful addi- 
tion to the close, may be united with each of these, if we may 
perhaps except the feeble cadence ; but its purpose is only strictly 
fulfiled when it is placed before the second triad, with a downward 
concrete on each of its constituents. All the forms of the cadence 
are severally required by speakers, to give a just character and 
variety to the close. 

It is not expected, the Reader will be able at once to distin- 
guish and to apply all the varieties of the cadence. Some of 
them however, cannot be mistaken. The prepared form of the 
falling triad, is the most complete ; and this is clearly separable 
from what was called the feeble cadence, or the faintest indication 
of the period. With attention to our history, no ear will, on ex- 
emplification, confound the effect of the two triads, and the feeble, 
with that of the prepared cadence. 

I have little to say of the Minor third ; the expression of its 
downward, like that of its upward concrete, is plaintive; but as 
my ear informs me, it is only heard as a fault in speech. 

21 



314 THE DOWNWARD SECOND AND SEMITONE. 



SECTION XXIV. 

Of the Dotvnward Second and Semitone. 

I have classed the Downward Second and Semitone, under the 
same head, on account of the limited extent of the remarks here 
made upon them. They have a high importance in speech; and 
this, principally as downward continuations of their previous rise 
into that form of intonation, called the Wave. 

A remarkable use of the downward concrete second or tone, is 
as the last constituent of both the diatonic and the chromatic 
cadence. It forms the constituent concretes of the falling triad; 
and is used, though its effect is not very conspicuous, in the suc- 
cessions of the diatonic melody, for the purpose of contrast with 
the rising second, which, in the history of that melody was, ac- 
cording to the progressive method of unfolding our subject, given 
as its sole characteristic. 

The downward concrete semitone is employed for variety, in 
the current of a chromatic melody. It is also applied to the first 
and second constituents of a chromatic cadence ; the radical 
descent of this cadence being by the skip of a whole tone; and 
the downward vanish on the last or closing constituent, being 
through the space of that same second or tone. 

In terminating the history of the downward intervals, one can- 
not avoid pausing for a moment, in admiration at the simple forms 
of the few, well-adjusted, and significant signs, discoverable in 
the endless intermingling and supposed complexity, of the con- 
stituents employed for vocal expression. Nor can the prophetic 
eye of science and taste well survey these efficient and manage- 
able signs, without reaching to some foreknowledge of that Sys- 
tematic Art of Speech, which at some distant day, must be raised 
upon the new and lasting foundation of Analytic Elocution. I 
have not extended the inquiry, nor presumptuously endeavored to 
apply the principles founded thereon, to the entire detail of the 
subject; being contented to encourage others towards a work of 






THE WAVE OF THE VOICE. 315 

greater range and precision, by setting before them what is here 
accomplished, in a case of supposed impossibility. For if the 
Coarse- Art of Popularity is not now at work, to make the Fine 
Arts all his own, I must hope; there will be some beautiful finish- 
ing of that system for the ordering of speech, which here seems 
only just begun. He who chooses to follow the path thus opened, 
may fortunately find himself among the first comers to an un- 
gathered field ; a field, unvisited and unclaimed, only because it 
is beleved by the indolent, to be barren or inaccessible; or be- 
cause the eye of irresolute inquiry has been turned from the 
leading star of observation, by the vain attractions of theory, and 
the delusive authority of Names. For what more does the phrase, 
'genius for discovery' mean, than the Art of forgetting our per- 
sonal selves and the praises of othersj and looking broadly, closely, 
and perseveringly at our work ? Too many of us, alas ! suppose 
we are doing all these things, when we are only closely and per- 
severingly tracing our narrow path to notoriety; and hunting, 
sharp-scented, yet often at fault, after the favorable opinion of 
mankind. 



SECTION XXV. 

Of the Wave of the Voice. 

The Wave of the voice, as briefly explained in the second sec- 
tion, is a continuation of the upward into the downward concrete 
movement. We are told by the Grreeksj this function was analyt- 
ically known to them. Yet if science did favor them with this 
initial means, for further increase of knowledge, they were thrift- 
less in the trust, and only hid their talent in the napkin. It is 
noticed by modern writers, particularly by Mr. Steele and Mr. 
Walker, under the term, Circumflex accent. 

As the wave is composed of two opposite courses of the con- 
crete, each of which may be of different intervals; and as the 



316 THE WAVE OF THE VOICE. 

direction of the voice at its outset, and the number of its flexures 
may varyj the Reader will find in the history of this sign, numer- 
ous subdivisions: but still with their details definitely described 
by the terms, of their intervals. 

The "Wave is a very frequent sign of expression, and performs 
important offices in speech. It therefore becomes him who is 
willing to turn from the falterings of an instinctive elocution, to 
the fulness, and precision of scientific rule, not to overlook the 
subject of the wave. 

In order to represent this matter clearly, let the several up- 
ward and downward movements of the wave, be called its Con- 
stituents. The constituents may then be severally octaves, fifths, 
thirds, seconds and semitones, either in an upward or downward 
direction. 

Further, as the upward and downward concrete may be of 
varied extent, it follows that the wave may be constituted of an 
upward and downward movement of the same interval; or these 
constituents may differ in extent from each other. It may consist 
of a rising and a falling third conjoined; or of a rising second 
continued into a falling third. These varied constructions give 
occasion for a distinction of the wave into Equal, and Unequal. 

It will be found on experiment, that the wave with its first 
constituent ascending, and its second descending, has a different 
expression from one, with a reverse course of its constituents. 
Of the variations thus produced, let the former case be called the 
Direct wave, the latter the Inverted. 

I have here represented the wave as consisting of only two 
constituents. It may have three or even more; for the Direct 
may have a subsequent rising interval, and the Inverted, a subse- 
quent falling one. When there are but two constituents, it may 
be called the Single^ when three, the Double wave. Should there 
be more than three, as may happen in rare and peculiar cases, to 
be pointed out presently, it may be called the Continued wave. 

These several forms admit of various combinations with each 
other. The equal and the unequal wave may each be direct and 
inverted, single and double. The double-unequal may have its 
three constituents dissimilar; or perhaps two of them, the first 
and second, or second and third, or first and third may be alike, 



THE WAVE OF THE VOICE. 317 

which I do not represent on the table. The direct and inverted, 
may each be equal or unequal, single or double. The single and 
double may each be equal or unequal, direct or inverted. 

Upon a diagram, in the second section, I have given a notation 
of each of these leading forms of the wave, except the Continued. 
As their several varieties can be easily supposed, and may, from 
the manner of the examples, be drawn by the pupil himself, I 
shall, in the following Tabular views, name, without ilustrating 
the uses of all the possible permutations of their several con- 
stituents: remarking here, that a limited number only, of these 
changes are of practical importance in present elocution. 



318 



TABULAR VIEW OF THE WAVE. 





- 


nts. 


' 


£ Octave, 
_§ w, Fifth, 








03 

P 


Direct, 


.g .2 ■{ Third, 
*s •£ ! Second, 






OO 


~O0 

o 




.£l Semitone, 






> 


Single, » - 










h 


o 












© 


je 




(3 


Octave, 


3 




c 


hfi 




0) bo 


Fifth, 


o 
bfl 

o 






o3 


Inverted, 


.9^ - 


Third, 
Second, 




© 
o 


a 




OO =*-H 


Semitone, 






Equal, w - 






^l 




"5 

© 
00 

a 

o 


DQ 

© 


Direct, 


1 f Octave, 
53 bb I Fifth, 
rt.S -! Third, 

02 CI 1 

*s •£ Second, 


© 

00 

o 
o 




O 

bD 

a 


o 




00 w » 

.£ Semitone, 

E=H I 


00 




"> 


Double, q - 
















* f Octave, 
© bo Fifth, 




© 
> 




hD 


Inverted, 


.2 ^ J Third, 
+a ^j Second, 
.^ Semitone, 




© 




• *> 

* 


. 














<4— 1 










i 










a 










o 




























Octave, 




o 




. 




<3 








a 




* hp 


Fifth, 




OO 

o3 




0) 
3 


Direct, 


.2-S ■ 


Third, 




5 




-+j 




"to "^ 


Second, 






03 


09 

d 

O 




£* 

S 


Semitone, 






J- 
© 


Single, ^ 




■— i 






.s 


■+3 




> 


Octave, 






"3 


ho 




© bD 


Fifth, 






S3 




Inverted, 


3|- 


Third, 


a 




© 

a 

s 


c3 




OO «t-i 


Second, 
Semitone, 


3 




!»H 




s 


00 

a 

- o 
© 

OO 




Unequal, ° - 

a 


» 




► f Octave, 




s 


3 




| hi | Fifth, 


«a 




oo 

o 
© 


© 

00 

£3 


Direct, 


,S -2 J Third, 
+= •£ Second, 
.£ Semitone, 

Eh I 


00 

< 




hD 


O 








.2 


Double, gj -j 










V 


05 

,3 




> 1 Octave, 
© M Fifth, 










Inverted, 


."§ ^ J Third, 








c3 




IS 3 1 Second, 








H 




.fcj Semitone, 
&h L J 





THE WAVE OP THE VOICE. 319 

In the preceding view, only the first constituent of the Unequal 
wave is given. Another tabular scheme is subjoined of its second 
and third constituents; the intervals in each of the three being 
different. And I must here repeat; these tables represent what 
may be performed by the voice, in the multiplicity of its combi- 
nations; a limited number only of which are to be regarded with 
reference to their practical purposes in speech. 

In thus penetrating the recesses of Nature, we must be allowed 
to describe her most minute phenomena, however presently useless 
it may be. Nearly all the forms of the wave here noticed, might 
be made designedly by a skilful effort of intonation ; and perhaps 
are made in daily -discourse, by the instinctive efforts of speech. 
Yet the unequal wave, far as I can perceve, has no particular ex- 
pression allotted to each of its several forms; most of the varieties 
here given, being only permutations of constituents, answering 
the same purpose. Whether these waves not specially significant 
with us, have ever been used to denote states of mind, or ever 
will be, is yet to be told. We have heard, but belief should keep 
a skeptic watch on hearing, that the Chinese vary the meaning of 
the same elemental or sylabic sound, eight or ten times, by changes 
of intonation. Do they draw upon the forms of the following table 
of the unequal wave? Under any answer to this question, the 
analysis of speech, contained in this Work, will enable the Pho- 
netic Ethnologist to investigate the subject of his inquiry, with 
precision, and with an inteligible result. 



320 



TABULAR VIEW OF THE WAVE. 



Single. ■{ 



Double. ■< 



The first consti- The second con- 
tuent beiug stituent being 
either a 




an Octave. 



Direct j 

or V a Fifth. 

Inverted, J 

Direct ^ 

or V a Third. 

Inverted, J 




Inverted, j 




Direct 

or 

Inverted, 



a Second. 



a Semitone. 



an Octave. 



Fifth. 



a Third. 



a Second. 



a Semitone. 



Semitone 
second 
third or 
fifth. 

Semitone 
second 
third or 
octave. 

Semitone 
second 
fifth or 
octave. 

Semitone 
third 
fifth or 
octave. 

Second 
third 
fifth or 
octave. 



Semitone 
second 
third or 
fifth. 

Semitone 
second 
third or 
octave. 

Semitone 
second 
fifth or 
octave. 

Semitone 
third 
fifth or 
octave. 

Second 
third 
fifth or 
octave. 



The third con- 
stituent being 
either a 



2d 3d or 5th. 
Sem. 3d or 5th. 
Sem. 2d or 5th. 
Sem. 2d or 3d. 

2d 3d or 8th. 
Sem. 3d or 8th. 
Sem. 2d or 8th. 
Sem. 2d or 3d. 

2d 5th or 8th. 
Sem. 5th or 8th. 
Sem. 2d or 8th. 
Sem. 2d or 5th. 

3d 5th or 8th. 
Sem. 5th or 8th. 
Sem. 3d or 8th. 
Sem. 3d or 5th. 

3d 5th or 8th. 
2d 5th or 8th. 
2d 3d or 8th. 
2d 3d or 5th. 



THE WAVE OF THE VOICE. 321 

From a comprehensive view of this table it is manifest; there 
might be other methods of arranging its details. Each of the 
distinctions given above might be taken as the generic heads of 
the wave; and the others might be included as species. We 
might take the five intervals, for heads of as many divisions, and 
under each, for instance the octave, consider, First; the equal 
form of this interval, and its combination with other intervals 
into the unequal form ; Second ; its direct and inverted, and 
Third, its single and double forms. Or we might take the dis- 
tinction into single and double for the two generic heads, and 
under each of these, enumerate the species, as being equal or un- 
equal, direct or inverted: and so of any other assumed order of 
these distinctions. 

I shall, according to the arrangement in the table, divide the 
phenomena of the wave into two great classes, the Equal and 
Unequal, and subdividing each of these by the terms of the five 
intervals of the scale, shall under the heads of these intervals, 
consider the direct and inverted, the single and double forms. 

The pains taken to define the technical terms of this essay, 
together with the exemplification by diagram, in the second sec- 
tion must have rendered all the movements through the scale, 
quite familiar to those who really desire to learn. The descrip- 
tion of the wave may therefore be so easily comprehended, that 
without a further notation, the Reader can readily picture its 
various forms, as we shall hereafter apply them. 

To learn the purpose, and expression of the wave, let us re- 
colect that it is compounded of a rising and a falling interval, 
the several characteristics of which have already been described. 
It will therefore be found, that the wave partakes respectively 
of the expression of its various constituents: and further, that 
its continuous line of contrary flexures enables the voice to carry 
on a long quantity, without the risk of falling into the protracted 
intonation of song. 

The expression of the wave in all its forms, is modified by the 
application of stress to different parts of its course; at the begin- 
ning, or at the end, or at the place of junction of its constituents. 

—■>►»© @ ©«*— 



322 THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE OCTAVE. 



SECTION XXVI. 

Of the Equal Wave of the Octave. 

The Equal Wave of the Octave is made by a movement of the 
voice, through its upward, and continuously into its downward 
interval. It may be either single, consisting of two constituents; 
or double, consisting of three; though this double form is scarcely 
used. It may also be differently constructed, by the first con- 
stituent ascending, and the second descending, forming the directj 
and by a reversed succession, forming the inverted wave. 

The equal wave of the octave in its single form is rarely em- 
ployed in serious discourse. If used in the lower range of pitch, 
to avoid the sharpness of the falsette, it gives an appropriate ex- 
pression to the highest state of astonishment, admiration and 
command. When it assumes the higher range, as it is apt to do, 
it loses its dignity as an impressive sign. Children sometimes 
employ it for mockery in their contentions and jests. Its double 
form has the same expression, under a more continued quantity. 
The reverse order of its constituents gives a different character, 
respectively to its single-direct, and to its single-inverted turns; 
for the latter by ending in an upward concrete, has the intona- 
tion of a question, through what we called the Interrogative 
Wave; the former, by a downward final movement, has the posi- 
tiveness and surprise of the simple falling intervals. When the 
direct and the inverted wave of the octave is respectively double, 
the rule of final expression will be reversed; for the double-direct 
will then end with the rising or interrogative movement. 

The double form of the wave, particularly of the octave, claims 
attention rather as a part of our physiological history, than as a 
subject of oratorical propriety and taste; and may, in point of 
use and expression, be rather classed with theatrical outrages, 
and vulgar mouthings. 



THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE FIFTH. 323 



SECTION XXVII. 

Of the Equal Wave of the Fifth. 

Enough has been said of intervals, to explain the Equal Wave 
of the Fifth. Its name is descriptive of its structure. Nor need 
it be shown particularly of this, nor indeed of the succeding sec- 
tional heads of the wave, in what manner the single and double, 
the direct and inverted forms are made. 

The equal wave of the fifth, is used as one of the means of 
emphatic distinction ; and has therein an expression varying with 
its form. The equal- single- direct wave of the fifth consists of an 
ascending and a descending concrete; the first expressive of in- 
terrogation, and the last of positiveness and surprise. But a 
junction of these opposite constituents takes in a great degree, 
from the rising, its indication of a question; and leaves to the 
falling, the full character of its positiveness and surprise. There 
is however, another effect of this junction, besides the overruling 
of interrogation. When a state of mind requiring the simple 
downward fifth is grave or dignified, it is expressed by pre- 
joining the rising fifthj to form a direct wave; and this direct 
wave is used instead of the simple fall, to give time to the syl- 
able that bears it ; for should the emphatic sylable require a 
prolonged quantity, the wave takes the place of the simple inter- 
val, which under unskilful intonation might, in the effort to ex- 
tend it, pass into the protracted radical, or vanish of song. 

The inverted wave of the fifth has the compound expression of 
surprised interrogation, produced by the termination of its last 
constituent in the upward vanish. And it appears^ the direct 
wave of this, as well as of other wider intervals, retains a degree 
of interrogation; and the inverted, a degree of positiveness and 
surprise. 

There is not much difference between the expression of the 
single, and of the double wave of the fifth, except what arises 
from a change of structure by the addition of a third constituent. 



324 THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE THIRD. 

The double-direct here assumes an interrogative expression, from 
the vanishing rise of its last constituent; and the double-inverted 
has the meaning of surprise from its downward termination. 
Perhaps there is a little scorn conveyed by the double form of 
the equal wave of the fifth. This is certainly the case when the 
last constituent receves greater stress than the others. On the 
whole however, this double form is not very frequently used as a 
sign of expression. 



SECTION XXVIII. 

Of the Equal Wave of the Third. 

The Equal Wave of the Third, in the degree of its expression, 
bears such a relation to the equal wave of the fifth, as the simple 
rise of the third bears to the simple rise of that interval. 

In all its forms, whether single or double, direct or inverted, 
the expression resembles respectively, but in a more moderate 
degree, that of the different species of the equal wave of the fifth. 
From its less impressive character, it is more frequently employed 
for emphasis in the admirative and reverentive style, than the 
fifth and the octave, which are especially appropriate to the 
earnestness of coloquial dialogue, and to the passionative into- 
nations of the drama. It also serves, like the other waves, to 
extend the quantity of sylables in deliberate and dignified dis- 
course; and to preserve, at the same time, the characteristic 
equable-concrete of speech. 

The equal wave of the Minor third, we have said is not ad- 
missible into speech; but if improperly introduced, as it often is, 
the effect of its inverted form does not" differ much from that of 
its direct. 



THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 325 



SECTION XXIX. 

Of the Equal Wave of the Second. 

We have now to consider the equal wave of the second, which, 
if ever the time for a Natural, and thereupon a Scientific System 
of Elocution shall come to pass, will be regarded as a very im- 
portant and interesting part of intonation. 

The difficulty of perspicuously defining and dividing the details 
of a subject, altogether as new to the author himself, as to his 
Reader; and of giving a full description of parts that are ele- 
mentary and closely related, and that must be successively ex- 
plained, obliged him to procede in the manner of gradual and 
partial development^ of changeful arrangement* and of frequent 
reconsideration, which produced this first, and so far, only full 
and instructive method of Analytic Elocution. In improving, or 
completing many of those successive systems of Science, which 
through years or centuries, have been progressively extended, 
retrenched, and simplifiedj method after method has been adopted, 
altered, and rejected; and every subsequent observer, knowing 
the attempts and failure of his predecessors, has been enabled to 
supply the deficiencies, and correct the errors of former classifica- 
tions. But for plan and purpose, in this offered system of into- 
nation, there was no preceding outline either of fiction or of 
truth; no instructive sketches of corrected errors, to save the 
author from his own; and as yet, even no friendly-enmity of 
criticism to ' pluck ' them from his pages and ' throw them in his 
face.' He. was therefore at first, and has been, in preparing suc- 
ceding editions, obliged to ask the arduous, but willing assistance 
of his own endeavors, to supply his oversights, and correct his 
faults: too often a vain and fruitless labor. * In accordance with 

* What is here said of the kindly slaps of criticism is no longer literally true ; 
thanks to the friendship of enmity ; for it has corrected our over-estimate of the 
intelectual capacity of the old elocutionist. I may indeed differ from some of 
my Readers, who beleve that truth and justice can never lose their dignity, 



326 THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 

the manner of Dividing and Instructing here employed, our ac- 
count of the diatonic melody, regarded only the radical and con- 
crete pitch of the second, and its successions^ thereby, to avoid 
confusing the Reader. Other functions and uses of the concrete 
were therefore kept out of view. It has since been shown, that , 
the downward vanish of a second is introduced, for the purpose of 
varying the current; and that for interrogative, and for emphatic* 
expression, other intervals both rising and falling, and these 
united into the wave, contribute to form the full and proper ex- 
pressive melody of speech. We procede to show further, that the 
Diatonic Melody, this Groundwork of all the other intervals, em- 
ploys the wave of the second as an important, or an essential 
constituent of its deliberate and dignified character. The Reader 
has already learned that long quantity is necessary for executing 
the wider intervals and waves. When therefore the interthough- 
tive and passionative styles are occasionally required on the dia- 
tonic Ground, they can be applied only to prolonged sylables. 
But as the plain narrative melody does not, along with its digni- 
fied character, convey any remarkable expression, there should 
be some means, for denoting this character, different both from 
the wider intervals and waves, which are passionative signsj and 
from the simple rise and fall of the second, which are suitable 
only to short quantities, in a quick and 'tripping' speech. These 
means are a prolonged quantity, on the wave of the second, in its 
direct and inverted, and sometimes its double form. In a previous 
section, there is an ilustration, from Paradise Lost, of the want 
of sufficient length, in certain accented and emphatic sylables. I 
here use that instance for exemplifying the wave of the second; 

however they may descend to the commonality of persons and things; yet I am 
willing, under the privilege of a Note at least, to make, if it so seems, a sacrifice 
of dignity and taste to a humorous thought, reminding me that in eighteen 
hundred and fifty-five, an English Reviewer, of limited learning, perhaps some 
journalized influence, and very near to total deafness, fell at last, not upon the 
errors of our Work, but upon what he took to be'its incomprehensibility; and 
disappointing our expectations about 'fault and facej' threw the whole Work 
itself Mo the dogs;' not considering^ how quick an ear these animals have for 
the high and low, long and short, strong and weak, harsh and gentle, and par- 
ticularly for the barking abruptness in the human voice. 

We wait to see whether trusty Ponto can make more of the subject than his 
distrusted Master. 



THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 327 

where the simple rise and fall of this interval is set on all the 
short and unaccented sylables; the direct or inverted wave, on 
all that are at the same time of long quantity, either accented or 
emphatic : and where the principle of the faint rapid concrete, on 
short and unaccented sylables is applied even to the interval of 
the second. 



High on a 


throne 


of roy al 


state, 


which far 


f^4 4 


\7 


^<V 


A 


i 

\ 



Out shone the wealth of Or mus and of Xnd 7 



W- J k^ * i 



Or -where the gor — geous 


East with rich-est hand 


* r^ A *y 4 


« « 44C " 


\ 


\ K 



Show — 


-ers on her 


Kings bar 


— ba — ric 


pearl and 


gold, 


r^ 


i n \- 


e^± 


4 4 


€^4~ 


M 



la tan ex alt ed sat. 



\4- — 1—± 



K 



•L 



This is a fine passage of descriptive poetry: and the intonation 
here directed, seems, to me at least, appropriate to its character. 
There is great grandeur in the generic thought of the Occasion; 
the language is richly impressive, and the comparisons, striking 



328 THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 

and magnificent. But the description is not prompted by that 
excited state which we distinguished, as passionative: nor indeed 
should it excite that condition in the mind of an audience. The 
subject is presented by the narrator, for dignified and grave at- 
tention. "We are invited to look up at the 'bad eminence' of this 
royal exaltation, and behold the splendor, surrounding a super- 
human greatness. It is however, only the Still-life of the imperial 
Throne, and has not as yet arouzed a passion. The poet, with- 
out himself stooping to overcome the beholder with the vulgar 
disturbance of wonder, elevates his thought to the refined and 
inter-thoughtive state of admiration. For this requires no wider 
rising and falling thirds or fifths or octaves; no semitones; no 
florid waves; no tremors, nor percussive accents^ in short, no ex- 
cessive nor extraordinary use of vocality, time, force, abruptness 
or pitch. The diagram shows the simple upward or the down- 
ward rapid concrete, on all the short and unaccented sylables; 
and the direct or inverted wave of the second, on the long and 
accented. The feeble .cadence is set on the word gold, as this 
terminates the description of the Throne, but not the sentence; 
which is finally closed by the falling triad: and this is made more 
complete, by the radical descent of a third on the sylable tan, 
forming the Prepared cadence: which however, by the continua- 
tion of the text, is not here required. I have endeavored so to 
arrange the intonation, as to give variety to the current of the 
melody. For although the prevailing phrase of radical pitch is 
the monotonej whether the concrete rises or falls, or the wave is 
direct or inverted^ yet this line is broken occasionally by the 
rising and falling ditone. The phrase of the monotone here used, 
is strictly appropriate to that deliberate and solemn style, formed 
by adding what we have called the inter-thoughtive signs, to nar- 
rative or descriptive discourse. And though we cannot, con- 
sistently with our phrase, narrative thought, properly ascribe 
expression to the monotone, yet we perceve, it has a remarkable 
character.* 

* Sometimes a subject is more clearly viewed, in the broad light of its con- 
trary. Let our extract then be read in the Falsette, with every kind of interval 
and wave, mingling as if they had been given us, only to run up and down the 
voice, and tumble over sylables, without a steady regard to thought or expres- 



THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 329 

Although I have refered to the necessary use of the rapid con- 
crete, on short and unaccented sylables, in the diatonic melody; 
and in the admirative here ilustrated; yet when this style is de- 
signed to be impressively deliberate, there may be a slight exten- 
sion in the time of the rapid concrete. This when cautiously 
guarded against drawling on immutable sylables, softens the con- 
trast between the slow and the rapid quantities, gives a varied 
unity to the vocal current, and smoothly extends and leads the 
concrete towards the wave. And this under the impressive sub- 
sonorous fulness of the orotund, will at some after time, give to 
the then instructed Speaker himself, and his enlightened audi- 
ence, that inteligent satisfaction, which must surely flow from the 
analytic and esthetic principles of an exalted style of epic, dra- 
matic, and God-with-Nature adoring elocution. 

I am left so alone with my subject, that it is social even to 
feign a companion. I therefore suppose the Reader may with 
me, recolect, that the immediate succession of the rising and the 
falling ditone, forms what was called the phrase of Alternation. 
When this is employed in a current melody, the constant varia- 
tion of : the radical pitch, together with a short sylabic time, and 
a use of the simple concrete, broadly distinguishes its effect, from 
that of a long quantity and the monotone, in the preceding ex- 
ample. The following notation of the description of Abdiel's 
encounter with Satan, in Milton's sixth book, will ilustrate the 
character, we must not call it the expression of the alternate 
melodial phrase. 

So say — ing, a no ble stroke he lift — ed high, 



±^± ± * * " *c\ 



sion. Such outrages always raise their contrasts; and we close our ears upon the 
nuisance, to suppose the lines, uttered in a full orotund, with a well adjusted 
intonation of the diatonic melody, by a Garrick or a Booth. It may perhaps be 
too ludicrous an ilustration, even for a JNote : but just think of that reverentive 
Anthem^ 'Before Jehovah's Awful Throne,' sung by a single Soprano, with the 
accompaniment of a fife and a violin ! 
22 



330 THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 

Which hung not, but so swift with tern pest fell 



On the proud crest of Sa— : — tan, that no sight, 



^J^S~4^L_^4-*-i 



Nor mo tion 

d 


of 


swift thought, less could his shield, 


«v 4 * 


W 


* 1 % % *-N- 


" 



Such 



-ter cept.* 



On comparing this with the preceding diagram, we find a pre- 
dominance of monotones, in the former, and of the alternation in 
the latter; the line of the monotone in the former, being broken 
by an occasional ditone; and the alternation in the latter by an 
occasional monotone. In the example before us the active char- 
acter of the description assumes a varying radical pitch, suitable 
to the vigorous phraseology of the Poet. Consistently, as it 
seems to me, with the language, and with the rapid energy of the 
occasion, I have set the wider interval of the third, only on foui\ 
sylables; and the wave of the second, on four: nor should these 

* The three early editions of ' The Philosophy of the Human Voice' have the 
epithet quick, instead of sioift thought. How this oversight occurred I cannot 
tellj yet it was not until preparing the fourth, and comparing our examples with 
the originals, that the error was discovered. For my own reading, I might draw 
a motive, both from intonation and from rhetoric, why I regret the discovery. 
But this does not concern the criticism or taste of others. 



THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 331 

intonations have more than a limited quantity. The Fourth or 
Feeble form of the cadence is set on the last sylable of saying : 
the phrase, as the sequel to an antecedent declaration, being 
slightly terminative. All the rest of the intonations are simple 
rising and falling rapid concretes, and are well accommodated to 
the drift of the description. The earnest purpose of the action 
does not allow a full and reposing cadence on intercept. I have 
therefore used a tripartite form, and given the first two con- 
stituents, rising concretes. There is a wider range of pitch in the 
melody; for though the radicals are still proximate in their suc- 
cessions, their course embraces a greater extent on the staff, and 
thus produces a lively contrast with each other. All these con- 
ditions give to the lines before us, a character very different from 
that of the former example. A prevalence of the monotone here, 
might perhaps represent the dignified courage, and calm security 
of an aggressor confident of success; but it would be misapplied 
and faded coloring, for the fictional picture of hurried watchful- 
ness and dreadful expectation, which the description of this de- 
scending impetus is calculated to excite. It is true, the above 
lines are only descriptive of a super-human action. But it seems 
to be a rule of sympathy in such cases, that he who describes, 
should himself, in his verbal picture of the scene, take-on to a 
degree, the- state of mind, which he endeavors to excite in others. 

The former of the above ilustrations, is purely in the diatonic 
melody: and though the latter is strictly descriptive, still its 
character either calls for, or admits the rising and falling thirds 
assigned to it; at the same time it affords an example of the in- 
troduction of wider intervals into the diatonic current. Others 
may think-* still wider intonations might be employed. Let it be 
as they wish. I am endeavoring to set-forth the principles of an 
art, not to oppose the free-choice of Taste in the thoughtful ap- 
plication of them. In any case however, a difference of opinion 
on the last example may serve to show how difficult it is, nicely 
to divide the expressive, from the won-expressive in speech. 

What is here said of the use of the direct wave of the second, 
in adding dignity, reverence, and solemnity to a diatonic melody, 
is also true of its inverted form. 

I am not awarej the double-equal wave of the second has a 



332 THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 

character different from that of its single form, except what may 
arise from extending the quantity of sylables. An unusual pro- 
longation of quantity in the diatonic melody, instinctively pro- 
duces the double wave; for the voice may take this serpentine 
course, through the second, without producing any unpleasant 
snarl, similar to that of the double wave on some of the wider 
intervals. 

There is what we called a Continued wave, or a progress of the 
line of contrary flexures beyond the term of three constituents. 
It is only on the time of an equal wave of the second in a 
diatonic melody, and of a semitone in the chromatic^ this con- 
tinued extension, if at all, is allowable. Should some extraordi- 
nary state of reverence or other solemnity require an unsually 
long quantity; and should the time of an indefinite sylable not 
be exhausted, when the voice has passed through the three con- 
stituents of the double wavej it must if still continued, necessarily 
be carried-on either in the note of song, or through further flex- 
ures of the wave. When it takes the course of the flexures, the 
bad effect of the former case will be avoided; nor will this multi- 
plied repetition of the rise and fall, through this small interval of 
a tone, produce any positive or unpleasant impression.* 

I have ascribed an importance to the subject of this section, 
because it is the foundation of a very general principle in elocu- 
tion. The Reader will now perhaps admit the propriety of our 
distinction between the effect of a narrative melody formed by a 
varied rise and fall of the voice through the interval of a tone^ 
and the effect produced by the occasional introduction of other 
and wider intervals, constituting what was distinctly called Ex- 
pression. Very few speakers are able to execute this plain 

* It may be asked here, why, if the voice can be prolonged on a continued 
wave^ should the length of sylables, as stated in our fourth section, be re- 
stricted ? The extreme prolongation, in the above case, is made on a single 
tonic or subtonic element; and we said in the same section, that a sylable con- 
sisting of a single tonic might be indefinitely prolonged ; whereas proper syla- 
bles are the product of certain combinations of the elements^ and these by their 
position, in our language, arrest the sylabic impulse. The sylables all and 
ame might indeed be continued during the whole term of expiration; but it 
would be on one alone, of their respective elements ; and such instances are 
not embraced in the general law of sylabic combination, or are only excep- 
tions to it. 



THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 333 

melody, in the beautiful simplicity of its diatonic construction. 
Some constantly use throughout their current, the simple rise of 
a third, a fifth, or a semitone, or give every emphatic sylable in 
an impressive form of their waves. Perhaps these faults procede 
from an ambitious attempt to effect a greater degree of dignified 
expression, or variety in the simple melody, than the speaker 
is able to accomplish by the second alone. In this attempt he 
employs some of the wide and exceptional intervals, and pro- 
duces a false and monotonous intonation; for the remarkable 
effect of the expressive intervals cannot be unduly repeated, with- 
out offending a well instructed ear. Yet the simple and unobtru- 
sive second, may be continuously used without producing a like 
disagreeable uniformity; changes of the simple rising and falling 
second^ of the direct and inverted equal wave of this interval, 
together with a judicious use of time, and radical pitch, affording 
sufficient variety to the diatonic melody, without destroying its 
characteristic plainness. 

It is the mental grandeur represented in the first of the two 
preceding diagrams, that under the Old Elocution, would make 
a reader, in confounding words with things, endeavor to express 
that grandeur, by what he might choose to call grandeur of voice ; 
and by an improper use of intervals of great extent, for the 
representation of greatness of thought and passion, to become 
pompous and affected. But the new School of Nature tells him 
that grandeur of thought in Elocution, is signified, like grandeur 
in all other artsj by a Unity, which must be both Great, and 
Uncommon. 

Unity, which of itself is a primary essential of grandeur, is 
denoted in the voice, by a continuation of simple concretes and 
waves through limited intervals ; the melody being varied so far 
only, as not to destroy the pervading character of a connected 
whole. 

Greatness of vocal Unity is denoted by gravity of pitch, ex- 
tension of quantity, the fulness of an orotund vocality, and by 
a deliberate and distinct articulation. 

An Uncommon vocal Unity is shown by a general use of an ele- 
vated vocal style, whether of grandeur or elegance, but unknown 
in the habits of the popular mind and ear. 



334: THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SECOND. 

All these vocal signs, characterize a deliberate, dignified, and 
self-possessed execution of that form of Diatonic Melody, which, ac- 
cording to our Divisions, inexact as they may be, I call the reveren- 
tive or admirative drift; intermediate between the purely Though- 
tive and the Passionative. And here we may remark, of every 
character of intonation, as of every style of Writing; that it is not 
a general use of wide and winding intervals in one case, and of 
strange and high-sounding words, in the otherj but of appropriate 
intervals for states of mind in the former, and of 'proper words in 
their proper places ' in the latter* which respectively produces the 
purity, propriety, precision, truth, dignity, force, freedom from 
affectation, and the like impressive and satisfactory effect in each. 
The English Church-service furnishes throughout, occasions for 
the use of the most deliberate, dignified, and solemn character of* 
the speaking voice. The gravely thoughtive and reverentive state 
of mind, in its exalted subject; the brevity of style, so essential 
to the representation of that thought and reverence; with the 
unaffected, yet impressive structure of its Saxon-worded ryth- 
musj all contribute to a prevailing and serious unity, to a simple 
grandeur of utterance, altogether undisturbed by passion, and to 
a dignified Drift, never perhaps found in any other narrative, 
directive, and suppliant form of composition. Let us take its 
solemn opening. 



The Lord is 


in his ho ly tern — pie. 


Let 


^ ^ ^s 


^ €\%*/ 4 ^_ 


*r 


«r «-„ w 1 


all the earth 


keep si lence be fore 


him. 


4V^ ^ 


* •"^ * *^ 


"T" 


w w 



The current of this notation is throughout diatonic, except, 
all, which has the unequal- direct wave of the second and third, or 
it might be the fifth. It is seen that some of the short and unac- 
cented sylables have a moderate length of wave; giving to the 
whole, the fulest degree of dignified prolongation: in this ex- 



THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SEMITONE. 335 

tension, however, the Reader must use his taste and discretion, to 
prevent awkwardness or affectation. Of the two sentences, the 
feeble cadence is set at the first, and the Full, closes the last. 

No one without inquiry on this subject, can be aware of the 
unpretending yet dignified force, the diversified succession, and 
severe simplicity of the diatonic melody, when conducted on the 
principles of the radical change, formerly laid down ; and varied by 
the appropriate disposition of the single rise and fall, the direct 
and inverted wave, the degrees of quantity, and certain forms of 
stress to be described in a future section. Upon the vocal level, 
so to speak, of this melody, the occasional expression of the wider 
intervals comes with all the effect that variety of impulse and 
measurable contrast must necessarily produce. Whereas he who 
is constantly dealing-out his semitones, thirds, fifths, and octaves, 
allows no repose to the ear; and when the real call for their ex- 
pression occurs, both his ear and mind are unable to perceve their 
appropriate meaning, and attractive force. 



SECTION XXX. 

Of the Equal Wave of the Semitone. 

The chromatic melody was formerly described as a succession 
of radical and vanishing semitones^ and it was even then stated, 
that a continuation of the rising into the falling interval is used 
for repeating the plaintive impression of the simple concrete, and 
for adding. length to the quantity of sylables. This wave is re- 
markably distinguished by its peculiar and attractive expression. 
Its direct, inverted, and double forms have necessarily, by repe- 
tition of the interval, greater plaintiveness and dignity than the 
simple rise; and at the same time furnish means for diversifying 
the current melody. 

A mingling of the reverse forms of the wave is employed in 
the chromatic melody; for the continued repetition of this re- 



336 THE EQUAL WAVE OF THE SEMITONE. 

inarkable interval, and the frequent occurrence of the phrase of 
the monotone, make it desirable to vary the impression of the 
melody, without destroying the essential character of its plaintive 
constituents. This is accomplished, if I am not over-nice in the 
distinction, by an appropriate use of the direct and inverted 
wave; these contrary movements having a slight difference, per- 
ceptible to me at least, on comparative trial : for the effect of the 
simple rising interval being slightly different from that of the 
falling, the varied final constituent gives, though faintly, its char- 
acter, respectively to the reverse forms of the semitonic wave. It 
is to be observed however-; though the difference between the 
direct and the inverted waves of the wider intervals is expressively 
markedj yet the difference between the direct and the inverted 
waves both of the tone and of the semitone, contributes but 
slightly to variety, in their respective melodies. 

On the subject of this and the preceding section, it is worthy 
of remark, that whenever a good reader expressively prolongs 
the quantity of his sylables, and surely no one can read well 
without this use of quantity, he does instinctively employ these 
waves, in all deliberate and solemn utterance; whereas, his voice 
assumes the simple rise and fall of these intervals, without the 
continuous flexure, in delivering those gayer and more energetic 
states of mind that naturally employ a shorter time of sylables, 
and a more rapid pronunciation. 

If these are the spontaneous and satisfactory efforts of the 
voice, on two such important points, it may be askedj why we 
should labor, so deeply in search of principles, that brought into 
practice, would be no more than the fulfilment of the instinct of 
speech. I have said, these points of intonation are accomplished 
by a Good Readerj if there can be a good or finished Reader, 
without the educative means of science^ one to whom nature has 
given a mental perception to assume the thought and passion of 
an author, and the vocal power to represent them with propriety; 
by one who, when he feels the uneasiness of error, will give even 
painful industry for its correction; and who, in his self-directed 
labors, is instinctively following the order, and effecting much of 
the purpose of scientific analysis and rule. 

But how shall he find out, or preserve his way, who has not 



THE WAVE OF UNEQUAL INTERVALS. 337 

this native ' grace' of improvement; who searches after right, 
without knowing what is wrong; and who copies both the faults 
and merits of an individual example, instead of reaching forth, 
under the direction of broad-founded precept, to gather excelence 
by discriminative selection. It is to such a person, a develop- 
ment of the constituents of speech becomes indispensable. To 
him the fulness of history, the strictness of definition, and the 
diffusive light of system, afford those aids, which the eagle-eye of 
observation, and the sure-winged thrift of a well-provided and un- 
incumbered intelect, in bearing itself from instinct, up towards 
science, may not essentially require. 



SECTION XXXI. 

Of the Wave of Unequal Intervals. 

This term denotes a vocal movement, by contrary flexures, 
with constituents of different extent. If the voice rises through 
a second, and then in continuation falls through a third; or falls 
through a given interval and rises through a different one, it is 
called the Unequal Wave. 

It will at once be percevedj there is a direct and an inverted, 
a single and a double form of this wave; but a consideration of 
the details of the several forms, as named in the Second Tabular 
view would be practically useless except their respective expres- 
sions could be definitely assigned. But the recognized varieties 
of the expression of this unequal wave bear a very small propor- 
tion to its multiplied species. It embraces wonder, positiveness, 
and interrogation, in different degrees, according to the extent of 
the interval and the direction of its last constituent. I cannot 
however, particularly ascribe to the forms of this wave, any ex- 
pression, except that of strongly marked scorn, and other mental 
states of like character and force. Though these states are in a 
slight degree conveyed by the curling of the Equal wave, and 



338 THE WAVE OF UNEQUAL INTERVALS. 

even by the simple rising, and falling fifth, and octave, when 
much stress, or an aspiration is laid upon their vanishing ex- 
tremes; yet the most striking sign of contempt, and of other 
related states, consists in a wide variation of the constituent in- 
tervals of the wave; especially if the wave is double, with the 
intonation strongly aspirated, or with what shall be described 
hereafter, as the Guttural Vibration, on its final concrete. 

This wave of unequal intervals is employed for the stronger, 
and generally exaggerated passions of the drama, and in the 
peevishness, and coloquial cant of common life; but it should be 
rarely used in the moderate temper of the greater part of elevated 
composition. It has a vulgar earnestness, and a quaint famili- 
arity, that render it adverse to a grave or graceful design of 
speech. 

When the expression of scorn is required on an occasional 
word, in a current melody of dignified or solemn discourse, it is 
under the direction of propriety and taste, generally made by 
stress and aspiration, on the simple rise or fall of the third or 
fifth ; for this conveys a more moderate degree of the passion ; at 
furthest, the expression is not to be carried beyond the aspirated 
structure of the single-equal wave. 

There is a peculiar expression of the unequal wave, described 
in the section on Chromatic melody, forming an exception to the 
general character of scorn, above ascribed to it. I refer to its 
employment for chromatic interrogation. In this case it is neces- 
sary to give, on the same sylable, both a plaintive and an inter- 
rogative expression; and this can be accomplished, only by sub- 
joining to the last constituent of the equal-direct wave of the 
semitone, or to the last constituent of its double-inverted form, 
the rise of the third, or fifth, or octave. But the double and 
other forms of the unequal wave, cease to be expressive of scorn, 
by withholding the aspiration, and the guttural vibration from 
their last constituent. 

The unequal wave may form the cadence of a chromatic melody, 
on one sylable. Here the voice rises through the interval of a 
semitone, and then in continuation descends concretely a third or 
fifth to the close. This intonation however, from its peculiar ex- 
pression, is unsuitable to the repose required in the cadence: for 



THE WAVE OF UNEQUAL INTERVALS. 339 

it expresses, particularly if enforced by stress, plaintive or queru- 
lous surprise: and consequently, is admissible on the last long 
quantity of a chromatic sentence, only when it conveys this state 
of mind. Should the stress be increased with an aspirated close, 
it would give the expression of querulous scorn. 

As all the forms of the wave especially require sylables of 
indefinite time, it is obvious, why long quantities are necessary in 
giving full dignity to speech, for these alone are capable of bear- 
ing the wave; dignity of expression being an effect of the wave 
of wider intervals, on gravely emphatic words, and of the wave 
of the second and semitone, in the respective currents of the 
diatonic and chromatic melody. With the light of this principle, 
the Reader may perceve on what defensible ground, it was formerly 
maintained, that the majestic movement of the first line of the 
second book of Paradise Lost, is shocked by the limited and in- 
sufficient quantity of the word state. 

High on a throne of Royal state which far 

All the accented sylables of this line, except state, are of in- 
definite time, and will bear the equal wave of the second. The 
same is true of nearly all the sylables in the three succeding 
lines of the text: and with the exception here noted, the whole 
is admirably fitted, by its time, for the vocal representation 
of this magnificent description, by the Poet of unsurpassed Sub- 
limity. 

From inattention to this subject of quantity, it often happens 
that poets use sylables of immutable time, in emphatic places 
that call for the expression of the wave. The following example, 
cited in the eleventh section, is here further explained. 

. And practis'd distances to cringe, not fight. 

The scornful exultation, conveyed by the words not fight, re- 
quires a form of the unequal wave on each ; but from the limita- 
tion of their quantity, this movement cannot be employed, without 
a remarkable departure from correct pronunciation. 

In speaking of the various ascending and descending concrete 
intervals, it was shown that a similar, though diminished effect of 



340 THE WAVE OF UNEQUAL INTERVALS. 

intonation is produced by the leap or change of the voice, from 
the radical line of a concrete, to the pitch of its vanish, without 
passing through the intermediate space. The wave being only a 
junction of the concretes of its constituents^ it might be supposed 
that some expression analogous to the effect of a concrete wave, 
could be produced by radical changes to the extremes of its flex- 
ures. Such a correspondence may be effected on some of the 
forms of the wave. In the case of the immutable words not fight, 
an approximation may be made towards the required expression 
of the continuous concrete, by giving not, at a discrete fifth above 
the line of the current melody ; then returning discretely to that 
line on fight ; and finally, rising on fight, from that line, with the 
rapid concrete of a third; thereby producing a kind of discrete 
imitation of the direct-double-unequal concrete wave of the fifth 
and third. For if we suppose the radical of cringe, to be on a 
line, with the current melodyj and its concrete to be carried from 
that radical place, through the points of the rising and the falling 
discrete fifth above mentioned, it will, with a final rapid vanish of 
the third, form such a wave. This discrete intonation by a wider 
interval, comes much nearer to the expression of contempt, de- 
signed by the exultation of Satan, than can possibly be reached 
on the triad of the cadence, to which the voice is prone, in this 
case, from the short time of the sylables, and their position at 
the close of a sentence. 

Another example, given in the eleventh section, may still 
further ilustrate this design to convey by radical changes, though 
in a modified degree, the expression of a wave of equal intervals, 
when a limited sylabic time, renders its continuous or concrete 
movement impracticable. 

Faithful to whom, To thy rebellious crew ? 
Army of Fiends, fit body to fit head. 

The words here marked in italics, convey ironical admiration, 
contempt, and scorn, and not allowing the concrete movement, 
may be intonated by an alternate skip of radical pitch through 
the rise and fall of a fifth. With fit on the line of the current 
melody, take bod, by radical skip, a fifth above fit; y again at 
the current line, a fifth below bod; to, also on the current line; 



THE WAVE OF UNEQUAL INTERVALS. 341 

fit a fifth above this last; and finally head a fifth below, at the 
current line: observing, that with the radical skips, there is still 
a feeble and rapid downward concrete of the same interval, on all 
the sylables. I offer in the following diagram, two notations; 
one, of what we called a discrete imitation of the concrete wave 
proposed for the Poet's phrase; another, with the same number 
of words taken, as well as I could compose them, to represent 
something like the character of his short-timed phraseology; and 
with sufficient quantity to bear the concrete, and the wave. 



Fit bod— y to fit head. 


Well paired with all thy sins! 




4S& tffl* M- 


H^ w^ 


m / m m 


tat a tti a 


!w — L^ — L.^x x ^ 


Ft •%, % 1 



The First of these notations is described above: though here 
the rapid downward concrete of the third is, by a mistake, put 
for the fifth. In the Second, the word well has the inverted 
wave of the fifth, with its rising constituent, expressive of a sort 
of admiration, ironical it must be, at Satan's preposterous claims to 
an honorable faithfulness. I say nothing of a slight tremor on this 
rising constituent, to show the exulting scorn of Gabrielj nor of 
any form or degree of vocality and stress, for the impressive display 
of the whole phrase. After the lighter sneer has been intimated, 
the rest of the words convey a positive assurance on the part of 
the speaker, of the truth of the contemptuous comparison, and 
should therefore have the conclusive intonation of the downward 
intervals. Paired has the falling fifth; with, the feeble and 
falling rapid concrete of a third, on the line of the current melody; 
all, a positive downward fifth, from the hight of that interval 
above the current; thy, a direct unequal wave of the second and 
third ; and sins, a feeble cadence to close the phrase. There is in 
all this, but the plain inteligible up and down of the voice without 
assistance from any occult quality, emanating from that ' souV of 
the Elocutionist, which has never yet been seen, scented, touched, 
tasted nor heard. In the first of these ways only, by marking 
the extremes of those intervals, which, upon extended sylabic 
quantity would be given as a wave, can that open eye of wonder, 



342 THE WAVE OF UNEQUAL INTERVALS. 

and snarling of scorn, be substitutively executed. Yet even with 
every assistance from the radical skip, a reader, if he possesses 
the power of an educated elocution, must still find it vexatiously 
restrained within these words. 

We have had occasion to apply the term simple to the unflexed 
concrete, to distinguish it from the wave. The above mode of in- 
tonation on immutable sylables is an example of what we called a 
discrete compared with a concrete wave. 

It has been shown, that in the purposes of speech, two forms 
of the simple concrete, the slow and the rapid, are respectively 
required for long and short quantities. It was early a question 
with me, whether a rapid movement, through the wave, is per- 
ceptible on an immutable sylable. Time and motion together 
with matter, are the great agents, in perpetual creation; and in 
their labors, strive at the greatest and the least; but are still re- 
spectively as untraceable in their minuteness, as ilimitable in their 
broad extension. There is then nothing inconsistent with their 
functions, in supposing that an instantaneous and perfect move- 
ment of the wave, may be executed on the shortest sylabic quan- 
tity. Yet to me it is not obvious: and though I would not, with 
the scholastic axiom, say; there is no difference between the im- 
perceptible, and the 'non-existent;' still, by inference, the wave 
that cannot be heard, must be useless in speech. I leave the 
question therefore, not for the endless disputes, but for the 
observation, and for the determinate Christian 'yea or nay' of 
others. 

Let me here recall the attention of the Reader to the subject of 
sylabication. It was shown, that the construction of sylables is 
governed by the radical and vanishing movement; that the course 
of sylabic sound is limited by the extent of the upward and down- 
ward concrete; and further stated that the prolonged and perfect 
sylable is practicable upon another form of pitch. We are now 
prepared to hear that the unbroken current of the speaking voice, 
may be carried through the contrary flexures of the wave, on 
tonic and subtonic elements, without destroying that singleness 
of impression which forms one of the characteristics of a sylable. 

This may be briefly explained by what was said on the subject 
of the alphabetic elements. The wave is a continuous sound, and 



RECAPITULATING VIEW OF MELODY. 343 

consequently affords no opportunity in its course, for the outset 
of a new radical, which, with its following vanish would produce 
another sylable. And it was shown that an interruption of the 
concrete, whether made designedly by pause, or necessarily by 
the occurrence of an abrupt or an atonic element, is unavoida- 
bly the end of one sylable, and the preface to the beginning of 
another. 



After the description, thus far given of the individual functions 
of the speaking voice, we may take a more comprehensive view 
of the subject, by Recapitulating the account of these functions, 
in the connected current of discourse ; and thereby show them in 
the joined relations of synthesis, as they have been shown, in the 
separate individuality of decomposition. 

We speak with two purposes. First, to communicate thoughts, 
apart from passion. And Second, to express thought with pas- 
sion. According to that difference, the voice should have a dif- 
ferent set of signs, for each of these purposes: and this, upon 
inquiry, is found to be the case. As it is difficult, if not impos- 
sible, to draw a strictly dividing line between simple thoughts, 
and what are called passions; so the vocal signs, severally repre- 
senting them, cannot be clearly divided, in arrangement. I have 
however, in previous parts of this essay, marked out a practical 
distinction, founded on the more obvious difference of the cases. 
For the plain narrative of unexcited thought, we employ the 
Diatonic melody. 

This melody consists of the simple concrete rise of a second 
or tone, varied by the simple downward concrete of the same in- 
terval; of a radical pitch changing through its several diatonic 
phrases; with an occasional emphasis of force or abruptness, as 
the meaning may require ; and a termination of the melody by 
the descent of the cadence. The grace and refinement of speech 
in this case are largely dependent on that equable-concrete struc- 
ture of the radical and vanish, which displays a full and well-, 
marked opening of the concrete, and a gradual diminution of its 



344 RECAPITULATING VIEW OF MELODY. 

force. These are the constituents employed, with their arrange- 
ment, for narrative, and plain description: and generally, if such 
subjects, as the definitions of astronomy, title-deeds of property, 
and gazette advertisements, are not read for the most part, in 
this thoughtive style of intonation, the effect will be unsuitable 
to their passionless thoughts. 

In the above described condition, or first form of the diatonic 
melody, the movement is supposed to be with a tripping step and 
a short quantity. If however, the state of mind should be more 
serious and composed^ an increase of quantity in the accented 
sylables, together with a general slowness of utterance will be 
assumed: the concrete still continuing in its simple rise or fall: 
constituting another condition of the melody, though still purely 
thoughtive or diatonic. 

Should this deliberate state be further raised into solemn dig- 
nity, the melody will assume, on extendible and emphatic words, 
the use of the direct and inverted wave of the second, together 
with an occasional rising or falling third or fifth or their waves, 
and some moderately expressive form of the other modes. Here 
then, the thoughtive and the passionative characters meet, and 
produce what we called the reverentive or admirative style. Much 
of the Church-service should have this plain and yet remarkable 
intonation. It conveys in full the mental state of august com- 
posure, solemnity and veneration. A proper management of the 
contrary courses of its waves, together with an occasional radical 
skip, of a third or fifth on immutable sylables, gives sufficient 
variety to the melody; while it avoids the effect of unusual force 
and of more impressive intervals, that would overrule the self-pos- 
sessed composure and grave simplicity of this unobtrusive utter- 
ance. This form of melody includes the means for producing that 
graceful dignity of voice, which is in vain attempted through the 
loud- mouthed breadth of olis and aivs; through strong percus- 
sive accents with long pausesj the waves of wider intervals^ and 
that heartless affectation which passes without motive or rule, in 
unexpected transition from the strongest cushion-beating empha- 
sis, or from stage vociferation, to the attempted significancy of a 
mysterious whisper. 

Although the melody of speech is here represented as made-up 



KECAPITULATING VIEW OF MELODY. 345 

exclusively of the concrete second or tone, severally, under a 
short and a longer quantity, in the purely thoughtive diatonic; 
and again of the waves of the second, with the occasional use of 
some other forms of voice, in the Reverentive; yet in any case, 
we are to consider the diatonic melody as the general ground, on 
which the forms of all the modes of intonation, time, quality, 
abruptness, and force, are to be employed for the higher degrees 
of emphasis and expression. And this brings us to the division 
properly called Passionative. 

This passionative style expresses the most vivid and energetic 
state of mind, commonly called Passion, under all its degrees, 
from the reverentive to that of the highest mental excitement. 
Its signs are taken from the most impressive forms of the five 
modes of the voice. But these impressive signs are only applied 
occasionally to emphatic words and phrases ; and not so generally 
as the second in the diatonic current; though even this is fre- 
quently broken by some expressive interval* showing, what has 
more than once been stated, that we cannot draw a strict line of 
separation between the intermingling styles of melody. It will 
be learned in a section on the Drift of the voice, to what extent, 
phrases and sentences of expressive intervals may be introduced. 

The distinction between thoughtive or diatonic, and passion- 
ative speech is of such ruling influence, that we may again draw 
particular attention to it. 

In the act of Reading and Speaking, there has been, with the 
greater part of us, so promiscuous a mingling of all the forms 
and varieties of the modes of the voice, without regard to what 
we now know to be a natural and necessary distinction between 
the thoughtive and the passionative states of mind, and between 
the signs which respectively denote themj that it is difficult, at 
first, not only to perceve the difference of these two sets of signs, 
but even to bring the mind to allow, there can or ought to be this 
appropriate distinction. When however, attention is once awak- 
ened by classification and nomenclature, the difference becomes 
marked and habitual with an instructed ear. But how is this to 
be recognized by him who has not the opportunity of being 
directly taught the difference in the two cases? It may be done 
indirectly, through the usual perceptions of his ear. Certainly, 
23 



346 RECAPITULATING VIEW OF MELODY. 

no one who has given the least attention to the elocution of the 
Stagey or indeed to any other elocution, and even to conversa- 
tion; can have failed to perceve the difference, though he never 
named it, between a deliberate, grave, and dignified utterance, 
and one of a plaintive, querulous, interrogative, or lively charac- 
ter. The former is the narrative, diatonic, or thoughtive, and the 
latter, the reverentive or passionative style. Let the pupil then 
imitate these so widely different styles of speech, until they be- 
come familiar to his ear, and under the discriminative command 
of his voice ; and with a knowledge of the intervals of the scale, 
he will perceve, that the narrative, thoughtive, and dignified 
utterance, consists of the simple rise or fall of the second, on the 
short; and of the waves of the second, on the longer sylables. 
When he is familiar w r ith the audible effect of this plain diatonic 
melody, he will begin to recognize the state of mind that attends 
it: and then the whole difficulty of discrimination will be over- 
come: for there is as clearly a perception of this thoughtive state 
of mind, as there is a perception of the state of passion. When 
the natural connection of thought with vocal sign is not overruled 
by false expression, this plain thoughtive state of mind will call 
up the plain diatonic melody, as an excited state of mind will 
call up the passionative style. With attention to this natural 
laiv, there will be a readiness in executing the plain, distinguished 
from an expressive intonation, without a confusion of their re- 
spective purposes, as we hear it, in the great majority of readers. 
If I may state my own case, I do not, on an occasion for using 
the plain melody, direct my attention especially to each of the 
rising and falling seconds, and the waves that constitute it: but 
having previously learned the detail of sounds, and the states of 
mind, on which the distinction of style is founded, I bring up, or 
affect, or find-myself-in, the thoughtive state; and from the in- 
stinctive operation of mind on speech, I do not, or cannot with- 
out violence to my natural or acquired Elocution, speak in any 
other way. 

There is one expressive interval of the scale; the Semitone, 
sometimes employed on single words, and expressing complaint, 
pity, tenderness, or supplication ; but more generally on phrases, 
and sentences, and throughout discourse. This we called the 



THE INTONATION OF EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 347 

Chromatic melody; and like the two varieties of the Diatonic, its 
current is either in the rise or fall of the simple interval, for de- 
liberate grief; or, for strong expression in the equal wave of the 
semitone, under its direct and inverted, its single and its double 
forms. Some parts of the Church-service, containing words of 
complaint, penitence and supplication, call for this dignified wave 
of the chromatic melody. From the marked expression of the 
semitone, its melody never has the Thoughtive condition; but is 
always either reverentive or Passionative. 

Other constituents contribute to the means of correct, elegant, 
and expressive speech. These were considered under the terms, 
vocality; Variations of radical pitch on its different melodial 
phrases; Pauses, with the proper intonation to be used at them; 
and Grouping, or the means of impressing on an auditor, more 
definitely, the syntactic relation of words and phrases, by means 
of pause, emphasis, and the varieties of time and force. 

This summary includes the constituents so far enumerated, 
which enter into the composition of melody. Some important 
functions, yet to be described, will furnish us with other expres- 
sive signs. 



SECTION XXXII. 

Of the Intonation of Exclamatory Sentences. 

The downward concretes, and the wave, are variously expres- 
sive of surprise and admiration; and as these, with like states of 
mind, are represented by what is called Exclamation, I shall point 
out some of the principles that seem to govern the use of these 
intervals, in Exclamatory sentences. 

Beyond a general admission of the existence, and of the ex- 
pression of the 'tones of the voice,' or what we call Intonation in 
the Art of Speakings this important function has, strangely, re- 
ceved no further notice of its forms and uses, than that vaguely 
signified by the common 'notes' of Interrogation, and Admira- 



348 THE INTONATION OF 

tion. But as these notes imply only some undescribed peculiarity 
of voice, without being employed according to system or rule, 
they can be considered as no more than grammatical symbols to 
the eye. The indefinite state of knowledge on the intonation of 
these forms of speech, has been further confused by the vague 
uses of their symbols. For the note of interrogation is often 
applied to what are really interjective, or argumentative appeals; 
and what, by the light of inquiry, may be shown to be strictly 
exclamatory. 

The subjects of Interrogative and of Exclamatory sentences 
are so intermingled in their grammatical structure, meaning, and 
intonation, that it requires a comparative view of their several 
conditions to comprehend their relationships to each other. Pre- 
fatory therefore, to a description of Exclamatory sentences, I 
here give a summary of what has been stated on the divisions, 
purposes, and forms of interrogation. 

In the seventeenth section, we learned that even in the ques- 
tions there exemplified, the downward intervals with the direct 
and inverted waves are occasionally employed for their expression. 
Had the Reader been* prepared, by previous description of the 
character of these forms of pitch, it would there have been more 
particularly stated that some questions with the grammatical 
form, are made altogether by these downward movements. He 
may therefore now be told, after what has been said of the posi- 
tive expression of the falling intervals, that whenever a question 
grammatically constructed, employs only the simple downward 
movement, or the direct wave, the interrogative character is lost 
in that of the positive state of mind, which requires these adopted 
intervals. 

Interrogations which employ, exclusively, the downward in- 
tervals and the direct wave, are in their meaning, what we called-; 
Questions of Assumed Belief; and are severally^ Appealing, Ar- 
gumentative or Conclusive ; and Exclamatory ; to which may be 
added, as bearing the same intonation, the Imperative question. 

In all these cases, except the imperative, there is a certain 
belief in the interrogator, of an expected acquiescence on the 
point of inquiry; and his perception of this belief is founded on 
the facts, and influences, that affect the meaning of the ques- 



EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 349 

tion, and that are to be gathered from the action, or discourse ; 
constituting what we called the Colateral grounds of indication in 
a question. 

In the want, at this time, of a discriminating nomenclature, we 
are obliged to take the term, Question of belief, with a latitude of 
meaning, between a simple intimation by the inquirer, of his 
knowledge upon the subject of the question^ and his full assur- 
ance that the answer must accord with the hopes and expectations 
which prompted the question. For we learned in the seventeenth 
section, that the negative form varies in its assumed belief, from 
the slightest degree, to the fulness of a triumphant inquiry : and 
employs, according to that degree, the various means of a partial 
interrogative^ in a wider downward interval, and a wider direct 
wave. The questions reserved for this section, imply their belief, 
to a degree that calls universally, for a thorough and positive 
downward intonation. 

I have therefore included the four above named kinds of inter- 
rogation under the present head of Exclamatory Sentences; for 
these require the same downward forms of pitch. It will be dif- 
ficult however, to draw a precise line of separation between the 
pure interrogation of the rising intervals, and the grammatical 
question with a downward positive movement. And though we 
may not be able to make the points of their near resemblance, a 
matter of exact discrimination, we may still describe and arrange 
the manifest difference between them. 

The Appealing Question. In this interrogatory, the state of 
mind of the speaker in most cases, approaches to that of positive 
conviction; as no one ever appeals, but with the expectation 
of decision in his favor. The appeal is put in a questionary 
form, either with a persuasive deference, or with cunning so- 
phistry, as a leading thought towards a favorable answer. The 
real or the assumed belief of the interrogator produces, in ques- 
tions of this kind, the same downward intonation which positive 
assertions require; since the reference of these questions is made 
for a confirmation of that belief; and this is more clearly ex- 
hibited in the forms of poetical appeal to the will of Heaven ; for 
this implies the highest assurance on the part of the interrogator. 
In the fourth act, and second scene of Julius Caesar, Brutus says; 



350 THE INTONATION OF 

Judge me ye Gods! Wrong I mine enemies! 
And if not so, how should I wrong my brother! 

Here are two appealing questions, not addressed in the doubt 
of inquiry, and with anxiety for a reply, but with the full ex- 
pectation of a favorable decision. The words in italics there- 
fore properly require throughout, the downward intonation; -in 
truth, the sentences are exclamatory. 

There is a fine example of this question in Hamlet; where the 
Prince comes upon the king, at prayer, after his penitent soliloquy. 

Now might I do it, pat, now he is praying ; 
And now I'll do't ; and so he goes to heaven : 
And, so, am I revenged? 

The last line is an appealing question of belief, to the speaker's 
own confidence in retributive justice. The intense seriousness of 
Hamlet does not allow this question to take the more cheerful 
intonation of the rising intervals; but calls for the gravity of 
a strong downward expression, which may be applied in this 
manner. With a slight pause after and, and so, give to the first 
of these words, a forcible emphasis of the falling fifth, or octave; 
and to the second, a prolonged direct-wave, of either of these 
intervals ; the rest of the sentence having a downward intona- 
tion, with the tripartite cadence, and a strong emphasis on am 
and on venged. Hamlet satisfies himself, that sending the King 
to heaven, by killing him at prayer, would not be revenge, but 
'hire and salary,' on his partj and grace and l salvation' to the 
King. And the assumed belief on this point, directs his ques- 
tion; And, so, am I revenged? And, is here to be taken as an 
illative particle; so, as an elipsis, forj by so doing. The meaning 
of the passage may then be amplified thus: Now, might I do it; 
(kill him;) and now (while he is at praye?')T\\ do't; and so (by 
killing him at prayer) he goes to heaven. And so, (but by so 
doing,) am I revenged? or, (by so doing am I, therefore re- 
venged?) This full phraseology requires no special aid from in- 
tonation, to show the thoughtful vengeance with which Hamlet 
questions the connection between cause and consequence, and 



EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 351 

justifies his appeal. When the sentence is reduced to its textual 
brevity, the emphasis of a positive intonation is necessary to 
assist the grammatic feebleness, if not to clear up the obscurity 
of the eliptical construction.* 

The Argumentative or Conclusive question. The object of this 
question is not inquiry ; for it is generally addressed upon data, 
that make the phrase, though grammatically an interrogation, 
rather a conclusion from premises admitted or proved. Thus 
Antony, over the body of Caesar, saysj 

* The 'Acting Drama' always omits this Scene of Hamlet. It must have 
been intended by Shakspeare, though its time is not yet come, to be a fine occa- 
sion for two accomplished Actors: and when education shall take the place of 
jealous 'Genius,' two, and many more, will act safely, if not kindly together. 
But the Theater, under its present, I would say System of elocution^ if it had 
onej can with all its conjurations, draw-down from the firmament of 'Histrionic 
Inspiration,' only rays enough, in its nightly wants, to form one solitary Star ; 
which is at once made stationary in its powers, by becoming the sole center of 
admiration and applause. While the Poet falling to the poverty of the stage, 
and furnishing only a single character, to match the singleness of the Actor, 
they both have agreed to travel together, for joint reputation and profit. 

A system of any kind, that can furnish only one great Leader in its affairs, 
whether of thought or action, must be a bad, a wrong, or a very imperfect sys- 
tem; for it proves the Master to be but an Accident; and an accident happening 
within a rule must always be either an oddity or an imperfection. A good sys- 
tem makes the intelect and the hand equal, among the studious and competent; 
or, under a brotherhood of knowledge and principles, allows a difference only 
in their degrees of excelence. We have numbers without number, of Geometers, 
Arithmeticians, Chemists, Mechanics, and even common Workmen^ and we hope 
that hereafter, there may be, in the world, more than one great Actor at a time; 
all respectively, of educated inteligence and skill in their several arts, and nearly 
equal among themselves ; the necessary result of undisputed, and uniform methods 
of demonstrative instruction. But alas, in the ever-contentious subjects of In- 
telect, Law, Government, Morals, Medicine, Elocution, and Religion, there is 
still held up to us, the inimitable mastership, and solitary glory of Socrates, 
Aristotle, Alfred, Manco Capac, Washington, Garrick, Louis the Fourteenth, 
Esculapius, Luther, and Mahomet!! 

Whenever time shall fumigate the mind from such metaphysical notions asj 
'familiar spirit,' 'favored of the gods,' 'Caesar and his fortunes,' the Shak- 
speare-mould of 'genius,' which broke under its first castings those miasmata of 
typhus fatality to emulative efforts^ and shall set physical science plainly to 
survey the simple process of cause and consequence in the human intelect, then 
and not till then, will we see clearly all such monopolizing ascriptions, in their 
ambitious, delusive, factitious, and distracting light. 



85 - THE INTONATION OF 

He hath brought many captives home to Rome. 
"Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: 
Did this in Csesar seem ambitious ! 

Or as more strongly marked in this: 

You all did see that on the Lupercal, 

I thrice presented him a kingly crown, 

"Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition! 

These arguments, for so they may be called, though addressed 
in the words of a question, certainly cannot be receved with their 
usual grammatical meaning. The meaning is really inferential 
that Csesar was not ambitious. In short, these cases belong to 
what might be figuratively termed an interrogative syllogism, of 
that species which logicians call an Enthymeme, or an argument 
of two propositions only, the minor and the conclusion, thus : 

Caesar thrice refused a kingly crown; 
Therefore Csesar was not ambitious. 

The syllogism being completed by the addition of its general or 
major proposition, thus: 

An ambitious man would not refuse a kingly crown ; 
But Csesar thrice refused a kingly crown, 
Therefore Csesar was not an ambitious man. 

Such being the positive character of these phrases, it follows 
from the rules we have laid down, that they should receve an im- 
pressive intonation of the wider falling intervals and the direct 
wave; the very opposite to those which denote an interrogative. 

According to the present method of reading, by confusing the 
ordained laws of the voice, and thereby corrupting its practice, 
these questions might be given with a thorough application of the 
rising intervals. But in this case, the intonation would be apt to 
assume the sneering expression of the double-direct or single-in- 
verted wave, and by its ironical effect, to endue the inquiry with 
the force of a real negation. 

And here our history points-out one of the many relations, 



EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 353 

discoverable between the arts of 'logic,' grammar, and rhetoric, 
and that of elocution; or, between all the states or the purposes 
of the human mind, and the vocal means for denoting them. It 
has been shown, that the words in italics, of the above examples, 
are in meaning, positive declarations on the part of the inter- 
rogator, of belief in a fact ; which by a Figure of speech, is con- 
veyed in the form of a question: and questions are generally 
taken as words of doubt. Consequently in cases like these, 
where the voice has a positive meaning, it should be able to annul 
the usual power of the grammatical question. The means for 
effecting this, is by the use of the most emphatic degree of the 
downward intervals, and direct waves; for their expression is 
contrary to that of the rising interrogative voice. And this in- 
stance may serve to pre- signify the differences in vocal and gram- 
matical relationships, which the future cultivators of elocution 
will be called upon to analyze, and to reconcile, by the extended 
powers and resources of their art. Strictly, every proposition 
of a syllogism must either affirm, or deny. No question of real 
inquiry can therefore, form part of the process of syllogistic 'rea- 
soning;' as it neither affirms nor denies. Yet see, in the exam- 
ples, how the voice breaks through this law of the school, and 
almost of the mind, by its overbearing intonation^ and endues an 
undetermined grammatical inquiry, with the assumed power of a 
positive belief. 

The Exclamatory Question. The appealing question, it has 
been stated, is exclamatory; and conversely, it may be said 
here, the exclamatory question embraces an appeal. The only 
ground for distinguishing them is, that the exclamatory phrase 
appears to be further removed from the condition of a question, 
than the appeal, by its seeming the less to require an answer. 

In Shakspeare's Richard II, the King, in that celebrated 
descant on the state of princes, saysj 

I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief, 

Need friends; subjected thus, 

How can you say to me^ I am a King! 

The interrogative words in italics do not require an answer. 



354 THE INTONATION OF 

for, when interpreted by the two preceding lines, they contain 
reproof, displeasure, surprise, and conclusive denial, but not in- 
quiry; and therefore are properly expressed by the use of the 
downward concrete, and the direct wave. 

Perhaps the Reader may thinkj the Exclamatory question does 
not differ from the Appealing, or at best, only in degree. I am 
but the historian of my tongue and ear. After I have told all 
they tell me, the Reader may, and I suppose will, think as he 
pleases about it. 

The Imperative Question. This, although bearing a positive 
intonation, is not, as above remarked, a question of belief, but 
takes its downward intonation from the influence of a state of 
mind, accidentally connected with its own. There is such a thing 
as overbearing impetus in passionative, as well as in physical 
momentum; whereby the expression, appropriate to one mental 
condition is carried into another, which under different circum- 
stances would not admit of that expression. The intonation of 
an imperative question, seems to be of this character; for here 
two states of mind are embraced by the speaker^ Command and 
Inquiry ; and these are in immediate connection with each other. 
But the zeal of the question is exhibited in the vehement desire 
for an answer, and this desire displays itself in the earnest au- 
thority of command. By this transfer, the command assumes 
all the energy of the case; and seeming to forget, if I may so 
ilustrate the subject, the rising expression due to the inquiry, 
throws the positiveness of the downward imperative over the 
whole. This is exemplified by Macbeth's consultation with the 
witches. 

Witches. Seek to know no more. 

Macbeth. I will be satisfied. Deny me this, 

And an eternal curse fall on you. Let me know, 
Why sinks that caldron! and what noise is this! 

The eagerness of Macbeth here rises into anger, at the pros- 
pect of disappointment. This anger assumes the command, in 
the phrase^ let me know ; and the strong downward intonation of 
this command is, by the imperative force, continued throughout 



EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 355 

the two succeding questions. The inteligent Reader will, on 
trial, at once admit the propriety of this positive intonation, 
however he may explain it; for let him, after the angry com- 
mand, immediately give to the questions the rising intervals of 
interrogation^ and not only will there be a want of appropriate 
gravity and force, but the violent contrast of expression will be 
even ludicrous. Yet without the overruling of this imperative 
energy, the questions would take the interrogative intervals; for 
they contain a real inquiry. 

In the above instance, the question contains the previous com- 
mand; where it is wanting, we are to understand the phrase^ tell 
me, or some equivalent imperative. 

Perhaps one of the causes why imperative questions, as we 
have shown, drop their interrogative intonation may be, that the 
grammatical structure, sufficiently indicates the inquiry ; and al- 
lows the command to continue the downward interval beyond 
itself. Some other states of mind, embraced in a grammatical 
interrogative, require the downward intervals. But I have given 
examples enough on this subject to direct the course of analysis, 
and a method of classification. 

Upon the subject of the common Note of interrogation, we 
may remark, that as most questions are signified by their gram- 
matical structure, and as this symbol gives no special rule for 
intonation, it may be regarded as useless, except in declaratory 
questions, and phrases that without it might be mistaken for im- 
peratives. In these, the mark placed, as long ago proposed, at 
the beginning of a question, would be definite in its purpose, from 
such sentences always requiring the rising intonation. That the 
common interrogative indication of this symbol may confuse a 
reader who attempts to direct his voice by itj is a fair conclusion 
from its being applied to sentences which require, as we have now 
learned, a totally different expression. 

Having in the present, and in a former section, considered the 
various kinds of interrogation, that severally require either the 
upward or the downward intervals, let us briefly recapitulate 
them. 

First. Questions in their Grammatical construction, are sev- 



856 THE INTONATION OF 

erally Declarative, Common, Adverbial, Pronominal, and Neg- 
ative. 

Second. In the state of mind or meaning conveyed, they are of 
Real Inquiry, of Belief, and Triumphant questions. 

Third. Questions in their various degrees of Force, are Moder- 
ate, or Earnest, or Vehement; and they may embrace surprise, 
plaintiveness, mirth, raillery, anger, contempt, and all states of 
mind, not inconsistent with that of a question. 

These three kinds variously require in their structures, mean- 
ings, and degrees, either the partial, or the thorough rising into- 
nation; or a downward interval or wave intercurrent with the 
rising; which properly belonging to our seventeenth section, are 
there particularly described. 

Fourth. Those questions which always require the downward 
intonation, are the Appealing or Argumentative, the Exclamatory, 
the Imperative; and there may be others of like character deserv- 
ing a name ; all of which from having the same downward interval 
or direct wave, we include under the present head of Exclamatory 
sentences. In truth they might be called Figurative Questions by 
a license of speech, which takes the interrogative construction, 
for the interrogative meaning. But in them this meaning is lost 
under the vocal signs of a downward concrete and a direct wave, 
which we shall presently endeavor to show proper Exclamations 
require. 

As the preceding descriptive account and classification of Inter- 
rogative sentences may, in this first attempt to bring order out of 
imperfect and desultory knowledge, seem intricate and untrace- 
ablej I here recapitulate the several grammatical Forms of ques- 
tions, the states of mind, meaning, or purpose that direct them, 
and their degrees of Force ; with their Kinds, Structures, and In 
tonations, under a 



EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 



357 



TABULAR VIEW. 



I. Questions under a different Grammatical Form. 



Kind. 



Structure. 



Intonation. 



Declaratory. 



Common. 



Adverbial. 



Pronominal. 



Either an affirmative, 
or a negative sentence. 

The verb, auxiliary, 
and nominative, trans- 
posed. 

The addition of an ad- 
verb to the common. 



The addition of a pro- 
noun to the common. 



In almost every case, 
thorough. 

f Partial, or thorough, 

J according to the earn- 

I estness, or the state of 

[ mind. 

Partial, if not made tho- 
rough by earnestness, 
or the state of mind. 

Partial, if not made tho- 
rough by earnestness, 
or the state of mind. 



Negative. 



{ The addition of a nega- { Partial, or earnestly 

j tive to the common, the j thorough; or with a 

"j adverbial, or the pro- j downward interval, or 

(^ nominal. ^ a direct wave. 



II. Questions with a different Meaning, or Purpose. 



Real Inquiry. 



Assumed Belief. 



Triumphant Belief. 



J Common, or adverbial, 
\ or pronominal. 

Common, or adverbial, 
or pronominal, or nega- 
tive. 

Common, or adverbial, 
or pronominal: but gen- 
erally a negative. 



./ Generally thorough, ex- 
\ cept in series. 



Partial, or thorough ; 
or a downward inter- 
val, or a direct wave. 

Generally with an earn- 
est downward interval, 
or a direct wave. 



III. Questions with different degrees of Force 



Moderate. 



Earnest. 



Common, or adverbial, 
or pronominal. 

Declaratory, or com- 
mon, or adverbial, or 
pronominal. 



< Generally p 



artial. 



t: 



Thorough, except when 
gurative ; and then 
own ward. 



Vehement; with sur- ^l ,. , Emphatically thorough, 

,i mon, or adverbial, or ^ i ^ A - 

prise, or other ex- 4 . , 'J except when figurative; 

pronominal, or nega- 1 - " 



cited state. 



tive. 



L 



id then downward. 



358 



THE INTONATION OF 



TABULAR VIEW CONTINUED. 



IV. 


Questions under a Figurative Form. 


Kind. 


Structure. 


Intonation. 


Appealing. 


C Common, or adverbial, 
J or pronominal, or nega- 
( live. 


j A downward interval, 
1 or a direct wave. 


Argumentative. 


C Common, or adverbial, 
1 or pronominal, or nega- 
te tive. 


j A downward interval, 
1 or a direct wave. 


Exclamatory. 


C Common, or adverbial, 
-j or pronominal, or nega- 
te tive. 


j A downward interval, 
j or a direct wave. 


Imperative. 


( Common, or adverbial, 
-j or pronominal, or nega- 
te tive. 


I A downward interval, 
1 or a direct wave. 



From the detailed description and the Tabular view, on the 
subject of Interrogative sentences, we learn how variously their 
forms are, in structure, meaning, and degree of force, under re- 
ciprocal subjection to each other. The grammatical are changed 
by the meaning, and by the degree of force; the degree of force 
by the meaning; and the partial overruled to the thorough, and 
even to the downward intonation. Scarcely a single rule can be 
universally applied; and all are more or less crossed by excep- 
tions from every side. But such is the unsettled state of the 
facts colected by our imperfect analytic inquiry: and we leave 
others to reduce them to a less uncertain arrangement. For all 
the interchanges of interrogative intonation are still directed by 
the uniform laws of Nature, in the Mind, in Language, and in the 
Voice; and where Nature, in secrecy, is at her work of wisdom, 
we shall there find Order, whenever we, in imitation of her 
patience, industriously find her out. 

We here learn that what we call Figurative questions, are by 
their downward intonation not improperly included within the 
section on Exclamatory sentencesj which we now procede briefly 
to describe. 






EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 359 

Many exclamations may be regarded as eliptical sentences. 
The design of these broken phrases is to give a forcible picture 
of the state of mind; and as this is done with a brevity of style, 
which sometimes might not clearly convey these several states, it 
is necessary to employ additional means, for their appropriate 
intonation. And hence arise the structure and the expressive 
character of Exclamations. 

The shortest exclamatory, like the shortest interrogative sen- 
tence consists of a monosylabic word; and this may be any of 
the parts of speech, if perhaps we except the article, conjunction 
and preposition ; the interjection being the most common. And 
here, as in the monosylabic question, the power of intonation 
is remarkable; for it seems to be the art of speaking, almost 
without words. From the monosylable, exclamations vary in ex- 
tent through degrees of the elipsis, to the full syntax of a sen- 
tence; though the greater part are abbreviated by passionative 
haste. Exclamations might then be arranged according to their 
structure, as grammatically imperfect, or as complete. I shall 
class them according to their state of mind or meaning. 

The extent of the falling interval or the wave in exclamatory 
sentences is in proportion to the energy of the expression. The 
following interjective apostrophe, from its moderate temper, might 
require no more than the direct wave of the second, or semitone on 
0, and the triad of the cadence, on the remaining three sylables. 

withered truth! 

The energetic emphasis of Hamlet's revengeful exclamation at 
the atrocity of the King* 

villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! 

should receve throughout, either by slow or rapid concrete, the 
deep and forcible descent of the octave. 

Of the many kinds of exclamatory sentences, I shall only 
notice, the Admiring, the Plaintive, the Scornful, and the Im- 
perative; as these ilustrate the several forms of intonation re- 
quired by this impressive class of phrases. 

The Admiring Exclamation. Admiration is an earnest ap- 



360 THE INTONATION OF 

probatory state of mind, under new and elevated perceptions. 
This newness of objects, or of our reflections upon them, involves 
in a degree, an inquiry as to their character and cause; and 
seems to call for the use of the rising intervals. But this state 
has not the degree of force that requires a grammatical or a vocal 
question ; yet there is in the character of Exclamation, a positive 
conviction of the rare admirative importance of the object. It 
is from embracing these two states of mind, that the admiring 
exclamation calls for the direct wave, or union of the rising and 
the falling interval; the positive character of the exclamation, by 
the downward course of the last constituent, predominating over 
whatever inquiry may be indicated by the previous rise. Let us 
take as an example, the following description of the assembling 
of the fallen Angels at Pandemonium. 

So thick the airy crowd 
Swarm' d and were straightened; till the signal given, 
Behold a wonder! 

Here the sylables hold and wond require the direct wave of the 
fifth, which their indefinite quantity freely admits. 

The Plaintive Exclamation. It was shown in the nineteenth 
section, in what manner a plaintive interrogation may be made, 
by a junction of the semitonic expression with the wider upward 
intervals. The plaintive exclamation is produced by a rise of the 
semitone continued into the downward third, or fifth, or octave, 
as the energy of the case may require; constituting a direct wave 
of unequal intervals. The unequal wave of the rising semitone 
and falling fifth gives the proper expression to the accented and 
long sylabic quantities of the following plaintive exclamation of 
Macduff: 

Banquo, Banquo, 
Our royal master's murdered! 

The Scornful Exclamation. It was said in the thirty-first 
section, that Scorn, according to its degree, is expressed by the 
simple rise or fall of the wider intervals, or by the various forms 
.of the wave, when made with an aspirated or a guttural voice; 
the simple rise and the fall being appropriate to sneer; and the 



EXCLAMATORY SENTENCES. 361 

wider waves, to the deepest contempt and execration. When 
therefore these states of mind are conveyed by short emphatic 
sentences, they produce what is here called the Scornful Excla- 
mation ; as in the following, from the Merchant of Venice. 

Bassanio. This is signior Antonio. 

Shylock. How like a f atoning publican he looks! 

This last line will be properly expressed, if the sylables in 
italics receve the unequal wave of the rising fifth and falling 
octave, under a slight degree of guttural aspiration; and the rest 
of the sentence, the falling fifth, as a rapid concrete, with the 
like aspiration. 

The Imperative Exclamation. An imperative purpose in speech 
universally requires a downward interval, or a direct wave. Other 
functions, such as stress, aspiration, and guttural grating, to be 
spoken of hereafter, mark the degrees of force or authority in the 
command. The following exclamation of Macbeth to the Ghost 
of Banquo, calls for the downward fifth or octave throughout; 
according to the degree of energy the speaker may think appro- 
priate to it. 

Hence horrible shadow, 
Unreal mockery hence ! 

We need not pursue this subject further. Exclamations are 
but forcible interjective expressions; and there may be as many 
kinds, as varieties of passionative states of mind; for every mental 
energy may be found in discourse, under the exclamatory form. 
Let others define and divide them. Perhaps the nomenclature, 
and examples here given, may assist the work of inquiry and 
classification : and when hereafter, Elocution shall be raised into 
a Science, and cease to be, at least in intonation, no more than a 
common animal instinctj all those things in the art, that can be 
to me subjects only of hope, may, in the fulness of knowledge, be 
accomplished by others. 

Upon the subject of the intermingling of Interrogative, and 

Exclamatory intonation, it is to be remarked, that in some cases, 

emphatic distinction may require the use of a downward interval 

or a direct wave, among the rising intervals of partial interroga- 

24 



362 THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 

tives; and a rising interval, among the downward concretes and 
direct waves of exclamation ; the contrasts in such instances, 
constituting one of the characteristics of what is called emphasis, 
or an impressive designation of single words. 

In reviewing our account of the opposite indications of these 
two, and of other important divisions of speechj we perceve how 
they sometimes appear to cross and to contravene each other. 
The prevalent and cloudy system of Elocution^ and much more, 
our metaphysical and muddled Philosophy of the Mind, by resist- 
ing the clarifying influence of a strict observation, still keeps us 
carelessly ignorant of the natural difference between thought and 
passion, with their several vocal signs; and prevents our exact 
perception, why their phenomena, though apparently, are in no 
way really, inconsistent with the purpose of their ordination. 
But so it is. And so perhaps, the self-contented philosophic world 
will have it. Just as in government, religion, morals, the social 
relations, and medicine^ with all our majesterial boasts of power 
and progressj we have not the perception, knowledge, truth, 
virtue, and honor, to save us from still prevailing confusion, dis- 
pute, and disaster^ in our restless attempts to rectify these sub- 
jects of conventional trade, human ambition, and for all their 
pretended purposes, as yet of deplorable failure. 



SECTION XXXIII. 

The Tremor of the Voice. 

If the Reader has borne in mind the explanations in the first 
section of this essay, he must be aware that the forms of pitch so 
far described, are, severally, phenomena of the concrete, the dis- 
crete, and the chromatic scales. He has now to learn the means 
of expression derived from the Tremulous scale. 

This scale consists of a rise and fall on a tonic or subtonic 
element, through the whole compass of the voices by a more deli- 



THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 363 

cate exercise of that particular vibration in the throat, called in 
common language, gurgling. Although the Tremor has always 
been known as a vocal function, it is here first analyzed, and its 
use and management in speech described. 

In our first section there is a general account of the Tremulous 
scale. We must now be more particular. 

It has been shownj every effort of the voice is necessarily 
through the radical and vanishing movement ; and that the audi- 
ble characteristic of the several intervals of the scale may be dis- 
tinctly recognized by their effects, even on the shortest immutable 
sylables. 

As then each of the tonic and subtonic elements does, in its 
shortest time, always pass rapidly through the concrete, it fol- 
lows, that however quickly successive they may be repeated, each 
impulse must be a concrete interval. When therefore the tremor 
is made on any of the above named elements, either alone or in 
sylabic combination, and in this last case, it is still heard only on 
a single element; the successive constituent impulses of that tremor 
must each consist of an abrupt radical, and of a rapid concrete 
through some one interval of the scale. Let us, for brief and 
more precise description, call these impulses, or iterations, the 
Tittles: and the spaces on the tremulous scale, between the 
tittlesj here assumed to be equal, for so they seem to mej we 
will call the Minute Tittelar Skip or interval. Whether these 
skips here assumed as equal, are of the same extent, under all 
circumstances, and in every voice, it is not now necessary to 
inquire. The tremulous scale is then made-up of a succession of 
tittles, each of which, like the common sylabic impulse, has its 
rapid radical and concrete pitch. Taking the concrete of the 
tittle, as a designation, there may be a tremor of the semitone, 
second, third, fifth and octave. That is, the concrete pitch of 
each successive tittle may rapidly rise or fall through those in- 
tervals respectively. In this case the tittelar skips are supposed 
to be on the same line of radical pitch; still it is easy to perceve, 
that while the rapid concrete of these tittles is passing through 
its interval, the tittles themselves may, in their chattering radical 
skips, be carried upward or downward, through a part or the 
whole of the compass of the voice. These tittelar skips with 



364 



THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 



the rapid concretes, are made in two ways, as in the following 
diagram j 



UUl 



m 



urn. 




where a given number of these skips are continued on one line 
of radical pitch: as in the first and second bars; the former, 
having the rapid concrete of the second; the latter, that of a 
fifth. The third bar represents a line of skips, with a change by 
common radical pitch, through a second or tone; and by itera- 
tions on a line, with a radical change, by proximate, and it may 
be by remote degrees, the voice in one manner, ascends through 
its whole compass, on the diatonic scale. 

In another manner, the ascent through the tremulous scale 
is made, by taking the radical of each tittle, successively, a 
minute interval above the last, as in the fourth and fifth bars; 
the rapid concrete in the former being a third, and in the latter, 
a fifth. In this manner, without the last described linear step by 
proximate or other degrees on the diatonic scale, but with a direct 
rise or fall by tittelar skips the whole extent of the voice is tra- 
versed. We have no means for measuring the space between the 
tittles, in this direct manner of ascent. It cannot be a semitone. 
If it were, the tittelar intervals being all equal., the tittelar skips 
would in all cases, be plaintive; whereas, it is so only when the 
concrete of the tittle is a semitone. And it may be infered, that 
it is not greater than this interval: for if we make a tremulous 
movement through a major third, the number of tittelar skips 
will excede five; which is the number of semitones included within 
the third. How much less than a semitone, the tittelar interval 
may be, we leave others experimentally to decide.* 



* Some one, it seems, has gone far beyond common perception in distinguish- 
ing such minute intervals: as I find the following statement under a Note, 
on the nine hundred and twentieth page of an American edition of Dr. Car- 
penter's recent extended compilation on Physiology. 'It is said that the cele- 



THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 365 

What has been said of the ascent through the tremulous scale, 
is true of its downward progress. But whichever of these courses 
the iterations may take, either by the linear step of a tone, or 
wider interval, or by direct tittelar rise or fall, the concrete of the 
tittles, as it appears to me, takes the same direction ; nor have I 
ever perceved, in the ordinary uses of the voice, that the itera- 
tions of the tremor^ and the rapid concrete, move in directions 
contrary to each other. 

The tremor, then, consists of abrupt impulses, or tittles of 
momentary duration, separated by momentary discrete intervals: 
the tittles having a rapid concrete of some interval of the scale, 
and moving by very minute intervals, both in a rising and falling 
direction. 

That the tremor is so constructed, may be ascertained by ex- 
periment; for the tremulous iteration can be continued on a level 
line; or carried upward or downward, by an alternate line and 
step of radical change on the diatonic scale; or directly by 
tittelar skip, to the lowest audible pitch, and to the highest point 
of the falsette. And further, that the constituent tittles of the" 

brated Mme. Mara was able to sound one hundred different intervals between 
[within the limits of) each tone. The compass of her voice was at least three 
octaves, or twenty-one tones; (notes;) so that the total number of (minute) in- 
tervals was twenty-one hundred, all comprised (produced) within an extreme 
variation of one-eighth of an inch ; (in the glottis ;) so that it might be said that 
she was able to determine (or accurately to execute, and as I consider it, to perceve 
the effect of) the contractions of her vocal muscles to nearly the seventeen-thou- 
sandth of an inch.' 

Here is, as to execution and effect, a most extraordinary power. If however, 
the Contributor to this work, who records the instance, and who appears to 
have read every treatise on the voice, but one-> would just look into our un- 
valued work, of which there is a copy in the British Museum, he might perhaps 
agree with us in the conclusion, that by the division of a tone into one hundred 
parts, the iteration of the tittles, by immediate rise or fall, being so close, they 
could only be heard, as a continuous or concrete sound. The greater tone of the 
scale is theoretically divided into nine parts, called commas; and as even this 
ninth part, in our belief, as well as in the words of Rousseau 'is to ears like 
ours, useless except in (theoretic) calculation:' what ear was it, perceved the 
fraction of a hundredth, and numerically followed it up or down in tremulous 
progression through a single tone? 

Perhaps the present Note may in part, ilustrate what is said in the fifth sec- 
tion, on the groundless authorities, and careless conclusions, so common in 
vocal Physiology. 



366 THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 

tremor, however momentary, have each an issuing rapid concrete 
interval, may be proved by trial; for the plaintive effect of the 
concrete semitone may be heard on every part of the course of 
the tremor, through the whole compass of the voice. And in 
like manner the plain effect of the tonej and the interrogative 
expression of the third, or fifth, or octave, may be given to this 
rising tremor. Now as the tittelar interval is not a semitone, 
tone, or wider interval, but a very minute space, without any known 
expression, the expressive effect cannot be produced by this mi- 
nute skip, but must be from a rapid transit of the concrete of the 
tittles through those greater intervals respectively. 

It was in reference to this peculiar progression, so different 
from the concrete movements from the discrete steps of the dia- 
tonic scalej and from the purely semitonic succession of the chro- 
matic, that I ventured, in the first section, to call this discrete 
and chattering variation of pitch, the Tremulous scale. It is 
scarcely necessary to add that the rapid concrete of the tremor, 
from its momentary duration, is restricted to its simple rise, and 
fall : but the tittelar skip, besides the simple rise and fall by its 
minute interval, takes, in its progress, the course of contrary 
flexure into the wave. This wave of the tittelar course by the 
tremor has all the forms of the smooth concrete wave; while the 
rapid concrete still accompanies the tittles throughout their wind- 
ing progress. 

To those who think, we have unnecessarily distinguished Ab- 
ruptness from Force, in our general arrangement; we must remark, 
that in the comparatively feeble, but instantaneous explosion of 
the tittle, there is, to me at least, an example of Abruptness, as 
an independent Mode; and its peculiar voice gives here the 
essential and sole characteristic of this apparently explosive radi- 
cal function; which does no more resemble the common percep- 
tion of force and its uses, than an immutable sylable resembles 
the perception of long quantity, or a mathematical point, that of 
the continuation of a line. However it may be arranged, we 
practically maintain^ that Abruptness is an important function of 
speech, and elocutionists who have used it instinctively, will best 
fulfil their purposes, when assisted by analysis, nomenclature, and 
rule. 



THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 367 

The expressive power of the tremor, is shown in the functions 
of Laughter and Crying. 

The pure and imarticulated act of Laughter consists in the use 
of the tremulous scale, both in its tittelar skips, and in its rapid 
concrete. Its rapid concrete may be any of the intervals of the 
scale, except the semitone and minor third; its tittelar skip may 
pass either by the step of the diatonic scale, or directly upward 
or downward, or in the chattering turn of the wave, through the 
whole compass of the voice. In speaking of the intonation of 
immutable sylables, it was shown, that the rapid concrete, though 
immeasurable directly, as an interval of the scale, is yet recog- 
nized by its characteristic effect: and the Reader may practi- 
cally apply the principle, in discriminating the intervals used in 
laughter. 

When the concrete pitch is a tone, and the iteration is con- 
tinued on a level line, especially if that line is in the lower range 
of pitch, the function may indeed bear the name of laughter^ yet 
it will be only a phlegmatic chuckling in the throat. When the 
concrete is still in the tone, if the line of tittelar skips contin- 
uously rises and falls through a second or a third, thus forming 
what may be called a tittelar wave, the expression of the laugh 
will become more varied and sprightly. When the third or fifth 
is used in the concrete pitch, and the tittelar skips are carried 
upward and downward, as a wave through the wider intervals of 
the scale, it produces the gayest, and most vivid expression. 

Laughter is generally on one of the tonic elements; but it may 
be executed on the subtonics, and even on the atonies in a whis- 
pering breath. On the atonies, its tittelar skip if I do not mis- 
take, rises and falls, through the scale of whisper, described in 
the fifth section. It is made on all parts of the scale, within the 
compass of the voice, though it generally affects the falsette. 
Supposing the vocality of voice to be givenj laughter will be most 
agreeable, and varied, when it consists of a moderate tremor of 
well accented tittles, distinctly separated from each other; and 
passing, by tittelar skip, through simple intervals and the wave; 
with a concrete pitch, moving in succession, by simple rise and 
fall, through every interval except the semitone, and minor 
third ; the expression being still further varied by a swelling, or 



368 THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 

medium force, on the tittelar skips, as they pass through their 
waves. 

Crying is an ^articulated movement through the simple rise 
and fall of the semitone, and perhaps the minor third, or through 
the direct or inverted wave of these intervals. The act of cry- 
ing has two forms : it may be in the concrete, or in the tremulous 
scale. Infants, when they do not use the protracted note, cry in 
the first manner, with a prolonged semitonic wave, on some tonic 
element. It is a long time before the tremor is heard in their 
voice. The first step towards it, is in the convulsive catch of 
sobbing. By degrees this increases in frequency, and the cry 
becomes thereby, at last composed of the iteration of the tremor. 

The tremulous function of crying, like that of laughter, con- 
sists of an iteration and a concrete. The tittles, each with its 
issuing, and rapid concrete-semitone, or perhaps minor third, may 
successively ascend or descend through the whole compass of the 
voice, by the same kind of movement used in laughter; for the 
plaintive expression in crying procedes from the rapid concrete 
of the semitone, not from any succession of the iterations; which, 
in the act of crying, may take their course through the wider in- 
tervals and waves. 

It sometimes happens that children while crying in the tremu- 
lous movement, do from some mometary turn of perception, and 
without a cessation of the tremor, pass into laughter. Here a 
cheerful state necessarily produces a change of the concrete, from 
the semitone, or perhaps minor third, to the second, or other wider 
interval. And in a paroxysm of hysteria, the transition between 
these different means of gay and of plaintive expression, is so 
frequent and rapid, that the hearer is sometimes at a moment- 
ary loss, to say which function is in operation. In this case, 
a person may properly be said to laugh and cry in the same 
breath. 

The ordained connection of the semitone and perhaps the minor 
third, either in a simple-prolonged or in a tremulous form, with 
the state of distress is so close, that though the act of crying may 
have ceased, yet with a continuation of the distress, there will be 
a kind of mental hiatus in the attempt to return even to the dia- 



THE TREMOR OE THE VOICE. 369 

tonic intonation of speech.* Some persons, for the sake of sport 
or fraud, play the part of crying. If they are habitual mimics, 
and have flexible voices, they may perhaps succede. But nature 
is always honest, when humanity, her intended, but too often 
false representative, is ever ready to deceve. Diplomatic Craft 
is so well aware, his lips may mar the underplots of his purpose, 
that he is obliged to guard the ruling passion by circumspection, 
or brevity, or silence. When mirth or sorrow is within us, it is 
hard to restrain its instinctive expression. He who would be to 
the inteligent observer, an unsuspected hypocrite in his voice, 
must mask even his thoughts and passions to himself. 

After the preceding account of the use of the tremor upon 
single elements, in the functions of laughter and crying, it is not 
difficult to fore-hear the effect of its application to sylabic utter- 
ance in the current of discourse. 

When the semitone, in the chromatic melody of speech, is 
given under the form of tremor, it increases the plaintive effect 
of the simple concrete. For as crying expresses the highest 
degree of distress, its tremulous characteristic is employed in 
speech, to denote an excess of complaint and grief, and the ardor 
of tender supplication. Tremulous semitonic speech is the ut- 
most practicable crying upon words. 

To engraft the tremor on a sylable, let the Reader pronounce 
the word name, in a tremulous movement through the simple rise, 
or fall, or wave of the semitone. He will hear, the tremor equally 
on the tonic a, and on each of the two subtonic elements. 

The tremor on the semitone may give a plaintive expression to 
a single word: or that expression may be continued on occasional, 
yet limited portions of discourse. If this restricted application 
deserves a name, it may be called the Tremulous -chromatic 
melody. The following stanza, in which the tremor of age is 
supposed to be joined with that of supplicating distress, may, 
when read with the coloring of dramatic action, afford a proper 
example of this melody. 

* Perhaps, some of my Readers may recolect such a case having occurred to 
themselves, in childhood. I make the remark from my own experience, at that 
uncorrupted period, when instinct, as yet, had kept us all alike. 



370 THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 

Pity the sorrows of a poor old man, 

Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, 

Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; 

give relief and heaven will bless your store. 

Here the tremor of the semitone may be applied to every em- 
phatic sylable capable of prolongation, which is the case with all 
except those of pity and shortest: but even these may in a limited 
degree, receve it: for, it was shown formerly^ particular purposes 
of expression sometimes allow a slight extension of quantity on 
immutable sylables, and unemphatic and unaccented words, that 
in dispassionate utterance, bear only the shortest time. 

The occasional use of the tremulous semitone upon individual 
words, will be noticed in the future section on Emphasis. 

When the tremor passes by its tittelar course, through the 
rising or falling second, third, fifth, or octave, or through their 
respective waves, it joins the mental state of derision, mirth, 
joy, or exultation to that of interrogation, surprise, command;, 
or scorn, respectively conveyed by the smooth concrete of these 
intervals. It applies to speech, what is transferable from the 
function of laughter; and it adds thereto all the meaning and 
force of its satisfaction. 

The tremor on wider intervals, and on the waves, is used prin- 
cipally for emphasis; though in playful discourse, it is sometimes 
heard in continuation on more than one sylable, and occasionally 
even on short sentences. 

There is a use of this laughing tremor, as we may call its un- 
articulated execution on the second, third, fifth, and octave. I 
mean its employment in that hysterical exclamation, heard in 
exaggerated scenes of the drama. In this case, the laughing 
tremor seems to be strangely subservient to every species of ex- 
pression : for there is scarcely an excessive degree of passion, 
whether of joy or suffering, in which it is not naturally, and may 
not with caution, be dramatically used. One can readily perceve 
why this vehement expression by the wider intervals, should de- 
note the excess of those states of mind, instinctively connected 
with laughter; but it is not at once manifest why the signs of 
expression should be so misapplied, as to give the concrete tremor 
of the second or of wider intervals, to states that in cases of less 






THE TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 371 

excitement, properly receve the plaintive tremor of the semitone. 
Let us try to explain this seeming anomaly. 

The occasions on which this hysteric laugh is employed, are 
those of the highest possible intensity of distress. By the rule 
of plaintive expression, the tittelar iteration, and the rapid con- 
crete semitone should be used; and with this the expression does 
generally begin. But as the passion increases in vehemence, the 
voice is so far affected by its excess, as to dissever the instinctive 
connection; and, giving way to the habit of employing the wider 
intervals in keen and forcible expression, leaves the hampering 
concrete of the semitone, for the free expansion and piercing 
energy of the third or frfth, octave, double octave or more, in its 
concrete and tremulous forms. This is the cause why in hysteria, 
which is usually brought on by distress, or other congenial states 
of mind, the ordinary course of plaintive expression is overruled ; 
and as the more moderate forms of this nervous excitement are 
signified by the semitonic intonation, it sends forth its higher 
gusts, in the concrete scream and yell of the widest intervals and 
waves, mingled with a like exaggeration of its tremulous energy, 
in the wildness of an idiotic laugh : idiotic, because a motiveless 
and imbecile confounding of the laws of vocal expression. Al- 
though this hysteric expression may, when judiciously applied, 
be both proper and effective, in an extraordinary scene of the 
drama ; yet as it is generally accompanied with considerable 
grimace, is strongly impressive, and can be well heard in the re- 
mote corners of the Gallery, it is apt to be employed on the 
Stage, as a vocal trick; especially by the Actress, who without 
perceving its appropriate occasion, which rarely occurs, has yet, 
by ambitious practice, or nervous habit, a skilful command over 
its mechanical execution. 

It requires more than common facility of voice to perform the 
tremor with precision and elegance. Its full efficacy and grace- 
ful finish is accomplished, by giving it the greatest number of 
tittles of which the assumed interval is susceptible ; by making 
these tittles in fluent skips, with a distinct accent, with a ready 
progression through the simple interval and the wave, and with 
a median stress on the waves of these tittelar skips. It may be 



372 FORCE OF VOICE. 

added, that the tittelar movement on long quantity, generally in 
speech, and always in continued laughter, employs the wave. 

As this tittelar movement of the tremor is applied to all inter- 
vals both ascending and descending, and to the wavej it has under 
these applications, the degree and variety of their several char- 
acters. On a downward interval of the fifth, the expression will 
be of a graver cast than on a rise of the same extent; and on the 
rising second it will have less gayety than on the rising fifth or 
octave, or their waves. 

After the preceding view of the simple intervals, and of the 
tremor, the Reader will perhaps be able to recognize, and with 
the anticipative resources of science, even to fore-hear the effect 
of their detailed combinations. If with all I have said, he will 
not do this for himself, it would be to no purpose to do it for him. 
It is an agreeable office to stand prompter to a pausing, yet a 
ready comprehension : but it is an irksome duty, to be obliged to 
push an unwilling intelect on to the last sylable of its part. 



SECTION XXXIV. 

Of Force of Voice. 

This Mocle of the voice is subdivided into forms and degrees. 
These degrees, without much precision, are denoted in common 
language by the words, loud, soft, strong, and weak. Indefinite 
as the rule may be, yet taking common conversation as a dividing 
line between the strong and the weak, in speech, we might apply 
the terms Forte and Piano, as relative degrees severally above 
and below it. 

Force may be applied to phrases, or to one or more sentences, 
for the purposes of energetic expression; or to single words, and 
to sylables; or to certain Parts of the concrete movement^ to dis- 
tinguish them from other words and sylables, and from other 
Parts of the concrete. 



FORCE OF VOICE. 373 

Writers on elocution, and school books on the art of reading, 
give general rules for enforcing, and reducing the voice, in con- 
tinued speech. It is not necessary to swell the bulk of this volume, 
by transcribing them. We may however inquire, on what prin- 
ciple various degrees of force are connected with the circum 
stances of the speaker, or with the state of his mind. 

From the wide reach of an intense exertion of the voice, there 
is an obvious propriety in its employment, when distance is pic- 
tured in discourse. The indication of nearness, on the contrary, 
is well expressed by an abatement of that force. 

Secrecy muffles itself against discovery by a whisper; and 
doubt, while leaning towards a positive declaration, cunningly 
subdues his voice, that the impression of his possible error may 
be least exciting and durable. 

Certainty, on the other hand, in the confident desire to be 
heard, is positive, distinct, and forcible. 

Anger declares itself with energy, because its charges and 
denials are made with a wide appeal, and in its own sincerity of 
conviction. A like degree of force is employed for passions con- 
genial with anger ; as hate, ferocity and revenge. 

All thoughts and passions unbecoming or disgraceful, smother 
the voices with a desire to conceal even the voluntary utterance 
of them. 

Joy is loud, in calling for companionship through the overflow- 
ing charity of its satisfaction. 

Bodily pain, fear, and terror, are also forcible in their expres- 
sion; with the double intention, of summoning relief, and repell- 
ing the offending cause when it is a sentient being. For the 
sharpness and vehemence of the full-strained and piercing cry 
are universally painful or appalling to the animal ear. 

In supposing why certain degrees of force are connected with 
certain states of mind, we have perhaps ventured too far towards 
the presumptuous notion of Final Causes. And though we may 
have therein transiently strayed, let us not forget the duties of 
Philosophy. It is her office, first to inquire how things exist; 
the knowledge of why they so exist, must be the last act of favor 
which time and toil will bestow. Our steps over the works of 
man, may go hand in hand with the comprehension of their final 



374 FORCE OF VOICE. 

causes; for the author can tell us the narrow purpose of their 
parts. But the great circle of accommodated final causes in 
Nature, will be unfolded, only in the last recapitulating chapter 
of her infinite revelation. 

In the section on Accent and on Emphasis, we shall speak of 
Force or stress on single words. Here we consider the remarka- 
ble application of stress, to different parts of the concrete sylable 
itself, as described and ilustrated in the second section. By ex- 
periment we learn, that the varied effects of stress are severally 
perceptible, on the beginning, the middle, and the end of the con- 
crete movement, and when heard in immediate succession at its 
two extremes; that the same force may be so continued through- 
out the concrete, as to alter the characteristic feebleness of the 
vanish ; and that while the relative structure of the simple radical 
and vanish remains the same, force may magnify proportionally 
the whole of the concrete. 

These stresses we severally name, the Radical, the Loud con- 
crete, the Median, the Compound, the Vanishing, and the Thor- 
ough stress; as in the following diagram^ 

a 12 &j3 •* 

^ -£ <s £ 3 £ -3 £ P £ 






00 



iiiiii 



where I have endeavored, visibly to ilustrate the audible char- 
acter of the forms of stress on the concrete, to be described in 
the six following sections. The Reader is however to observe, 
that for the proper Radical stress, which is not ilustrated in the 
diagram, the initial opening should be represented proportionally 
to the vanish, fuler and more abrupt than it is in the symbol of 
the simple concrete. 



— — ♦ft@^«... 



THE RADICAL STRESS. 375 



SECTION XXXV. 

Of the Radical Stress. 

The Radical stress consists in an Abrupt and forcible utter- 
ance at the beginning of the concrete movement: and we may 
perceve, in the peculiar character, and expression of this im- 
portant stress, a sufficient ground for considering abruptness a 
generic mode of the voice. 

The simple concrete, described in the second section, and here 
called simple, to distinguish it from its stressful forms and from 
the wave, is represented in the above diagram, as having an initial 
fulness; but the function now under consideration is characterized 
by a more sudden explosion, at the first opening of the voice; the 
subsequent vanish being carried on in the diminishing structure of 
the simple concrete. So few speakers are able to give a radical 
stress, with this momentary burst, and therefore able to compre- 
hend exactly, the description of it, that I must draw an example 
from the effort of coughing. A single impulse of coughing is not 
in all points exactly like the abrupt voice on sylables; for that 
single impulse is a forcing out of almost all the breath; which is 
not the case in sylabic utterance: yet if the tonic element a-we 
be employed as the vocality of a sudden cough, its abrupt opening 
will truly represent the function of radical stress, when used in 
discourse. 

The clear and energetic radical stress must be preceded by 
a cessation of the voice. There seems to be a momentary oc- 
clusion in the larynx, or somewhere, to speak with caution, by 
which the breath is barred and accumulated for the purpose of a 
full and sudden discharge. This occlusion is more under com- 
mand, and the explosion is more sudden, on sylables beginning 
with a tonic element; or with an abrupt one, preceding a tonic; 
for in the last instance, the articulative. if there is any difference 
between them, is combined with the vocal occlusion. When a 
sylable begins with a subtonic, or with an atonic which is not 



376 THE RADICAL STRESS. 

abrupt, the full degree of explosion is not practicable, as in man- 
ful, foster. If such words are pronounced with vehement stress, 
there is always an interruption of the voice after the initial ele- 
ment, m or/, in the examples^ to allow the succeding tonic the 
full force of a radical explosion. This account may explain more 
particularly the part performed in intonation, by subtonic ele- 
ments at the beginning of sylables. It was said in treating of 
sylabication, that the subtonic does not always make a part of the 
concrete movement: for should it have more than a momentary 
quantity, it is continued upon the same line of pitch, till the suc- 
ceding tonic opens with a proper radical, and then finishes the 
concrete. This occurs on most occasions; for though it is possi- 
ble to open a tonic with so feeble a radical, that it may seem ab- 
solutely to join itself with a subtonic, which has previously risen 
partly through the concrete, still there is so much of the abrupt 
fulness in the usual utterance of a tonic element, that it generally 
assumes to itself the first point in the interval. 

When an immutable sylable, beginning with a subtonic, is pro- 
longed by oratorical license, it can be effected only in two ways. 
By continuing the subtonic on a level line of pitch, till the short 
tonic opening with its radical, completes the sylable with its 
rapid vanish; or by protracting the short tonic, as the note of 
song. Of these, the first changes least, the character of the syl- 
able; but in each, there is a disagreeable drawling pronunciation. 
This may be exemplified on the element I in the words let and 
pluck, when so prolonged. We had some years ago, a Player, 
from abroad, with so many shocking faults, that the Town, with 
unintended irony, was all in an uproar about his extraordinary 
powers ; and who, when quantity was desirable on these immuta- 
ble sylables, would, instead of yielding to that immutable fatej 
give an aifected drawl to the subtonic element. I remember, the 
whole philosophy of this Actor's Histrionism was included in 
what he and his School called 'Identity:' the meaning, or rather 
the empty mysticism of which, will be noticed hereafter. 

The power of giving a strong, full, and clear radical stress to a 
tonic element, is not a common accomplishment among speakers; 
yet the free and proper management of this abrupt function is 
highly important in elocution. Its two principal purposes arej to 



THE RADICAL STRESS. 377 

contribute to the clearness of articulation, and to form the dis- 
tinguishing accent and emphasis on immutable sylables. These 
sylables not allowing the slow concrete, and being incapable, as 
will be shown hereafter, of bearing the other forms of stress, the 
abrupt or explosive enforcement of the radical, apart from in- 
tonation and vocality, is their only means for emphatic dis- 
tinction. 

Having pointed out the purpose and effect of the radical stress, 
in articulation, this is perhaps the place to consider the means 
for insuring the distinct audibility, and elegance of sylabic pro- 
nunciation. 

This subject has three divisions: the First embraces a con- 
sideration of the specific sounds, which the changeable decrees of 
human convention give to the alphabetic elements. The Second 
regards the subject of radical stress : and the Third, an appro- 
priation of the several constituent elements of a sylable, to the 
concrete movement. 

The First of these matters is like a republican government, 
under the rule of any body : andj until some extraordinary revo- 
lution shall bring every body to yield their discordant Wills to a 
convenient agreement* is therefore very properly to be excluded 
from the discussions of a philosophy that desires to be exact and 
effectual in its instruction. How can we hope to establish a system 
of elemental pronunciation in a language, when Great Masters in 
Criticism, and the whole literary School, condemn at once, every 
attempt in so simple and useful a labor, and so easy, when once 
taken gradually in hand, as the correction of its orthography. 

Supposing then the sound of the elements to be precisely what 
temporary authority has determinedj the clearness of pronuncia- 
tion will depend, in the 

Second case, on the effective execution of the radical stress. 
Although every element should be heard in the sylabic impulse, 
yet the tonic is generally the most remarkable in the compound. 
The characteristic of the sylable, therefore, lies, in a great meas- 
ure, within this element; and a full explosive radical stress upon 
it, contributes much to distinct pronunciation. It is this which 
draws the cutting edge of words across the ear, and startles even 
25 



378 THE RADICAL STRESS. 

stupor into attention ; this, which lessens the fatigue of listening, 
and out-voices the murmur, and unruly stir of an assembly ; and 
a sensibility to this, through a general instinct of the animal ear, 
which gives authority to the groom, and makes the horse submis- 
sive to his angry accent. Besides the fulness, loudness, and ab- 
ruptness of the radical stress, when employed for distinct and 
forcible articulation, the tonic sound itself should be a pure vo- 
cality. When mixed with aspiration, it loses the brilliancy, that 
serves to increase the impressive effect of the explosive force. 

Third. The principles of the sylabic compound, set-forth in 
this essay, afford additional means for effecting what is called dis- 
tinct articulation. In order to insure a clear and striking utter- 
ance, the whole sylable should be not only sufficiently loud, but 
each elementary constituent, rejecting redundant elements, should 
be so distinct, as to prevent the possibility of confounding syl- 
ables, having the same tonic, yet differing partially or univer- 
sally in their subtonics. This is effected, by distributing the 
time and movement of the concrete, properly among the elements 
of the given sylable; and will be explained by a particular in- 
stance. I once heard the Actor, above alluded to, pronounce the 
word plain, by prolonging the voice on I, and then terminating 
the sylable, by a momentary transit on ain. And though in this 
case, I was clearly audible, yet the rapid flight and blending of a 
and n rendered the characteristic effect of the whole sylable both 
faint and confused. One of the consequences of this imperfect 
pronunciation, and it was a common fault with the popular Actor, 
was, that on turning his face from the audience while speaking, 
many of his words, though audible as inarticulate sounds, were 
uninteligible to an attentive ear, at medium distances in the 
theater. A practice like this, obstructs the equable flow of the 
concrete, and overrules the proper apportionment of time to the 
constituents of a sylable. For when each element of plain, has 
its due proportion of time and of the concrete, the utterance of 
the whole word will be just and satisfactory. 

The principles of articulate utterance under this third head, 
may be exemplified in the following sentence : 

Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. 



THE RADICAL STRESS. 379 

Should we give emphatic importance to the word more, soley 
by the extent of quantity, and not by peculiarity of intonation ; 
and should this quantity be spread upon an unequal wave of the 
rising second and falling fifth, with a view to give a feeble cadence 
to the dignified extension of the word: then, in apportionment of 
the elements, if m be carried through the rise of the second, and 
continued downward through nearly the whole extent of a fifth, 
the o and r being rapidly made at its closej the articulation will 
be imperfect. If the time of the wave be divided into three 
parts severally about equal, and the m, o, and r, be respectively 
assigned to these parts, the word will be properly pronounced. 

Many immutable sylables beginning with a subtonic, are, in 
the current of dignified utterance, particularly in the reverentive 
style, sometimes prolonged beyond the limit of their solitary or 
grammatical time. When this practice is assumed by oratorical 
license^ without a knowledge of this equalizing precept that 
should direct itj the added quantity is generally expended wholly 
on the initial subtonic. If the sylables not, met, rock, lit, that, 
and vie, are unusually prolonged, there is less departure from 
correct pronunciation, by giving the additional quantity to the 
subtonics, than to the tonics. Still there is a want of that dis- 
tinctness by which a sylable is immediately recognized; for syl- 
ables are known in part, by the habit of their quantity, both in 
the absolute time of the whole, and the comparative time of their 
constituent elements. In each of the above instances, the time 
of the several elements should strictly, be about equal, but by 
supposition, they are not; for when the subtonic is unduly ex- 
tended, the tonic and the following abrupt element have only 
their proper momentary duration. 

And this disproportionate time of the elements, here assigned 
as the cause of indistinctness in speech, is still more frequently a 
cause of inarticulate pronunciation, in the Singing voice. 

In the instances of the words plain, and more, the time of the 
concrete should be apportioned equally among the elements; and 
this is necessary in the reverentive style, for the elegant and im- 
pressive utterance of other sylables, having a similar construc- 
tion. Yet we cannot give a universal rule on this point; such 
indefinite sylables, as men, run, lin, and gel, having their pro- 



380 THE MEDIAN STRESS. 

longation on the several subtonic, will not bear addition to the 
short tonic elements. 

Radical stress is applied to immutable, mutable, and to indefi- 
nite sylables. In the first case, the shortness of the quantity 
produces as it were, only an explosive point of sound. It may 
be used on the initial of all concrete intervals both rising and 
falling, and on the beginning of the wave. 

From what has been said, it must not be considered that radi- 
cal stress is used, only to give the distinction of loudness to im- 
mutable sylables ; the enforcement is likewise appropriate to the 
various states of mind embraced by them ; and in the full energy 
of its abruptness, is a sign of the highest degree of passion. 



SECTION XXXVI. 

Of the Median Stress. 

The Radical stress is principally effective in distinguishing 
immutable sylables. Long quantities, admitting other means for 
attracting the ear, more rarely require the initial explosive ful- 
ness. They receve their stress, with greater dignity and grace, 
from an enforcing of the middle portion of the concrete move- 
ment. 

Radical stress is an opening abruptness after a pause. The 
Median is a gradual increase and subsequent decrease of fulness 
in the course of the concrete, similar to what is called a Swell, in 
the language of musical expression. There is this difference be- 
tween them. The swell of song is sometimes on a note continued 
upon the same line of pitch: whereas the median stress of speech 
is always in either an upward or downward concrete; or about 
the junction of these opposite movements, in the wave. 

This form of force cannot be used on all the simple intervals of 
the scale. And as it necessarily calls for an extended quantity, 
it is generally applied to the waves. Of the simple intervals, it 



THE MEDIAN STRESS. 381 

is practicable, if at all, only on the fifth and the octave, slowly 
prolonged. When a melody of the second or of the semitone re- 
quires the dignity of the median stress, it is always effected on the 
waves of these intervals. In this case the median stress is applied 
to the middle of the course of the concretes; or about the junc- 
tion of the two lines of contrary flexure. And it is the same 
.with the single wave of every interval both direct and inverted. 
If the median stress is applied to the double wave, it is laid on 
the course of a downward or an upward constituent, as the wave 
may be direct or inverted; for such constituent will be in each 
case, respectively the middle portion of its whole extent. 

The median stress is applicable to the tittelar waves of the 
tremulous scale; and in effect, only enforces the character of the 
tittles and their rapid concrete at the junction of the intervals 
of a single wave, or on the middle constituent of a double one. 
When so employed, it gives energy to the expression of the 
tremor, and affords variety to the ear. 

Inasmuch as force under any form, may be used with other 
means of expression, its principal purpose in combination, is to 
extend the power of those other means. Thus the median stress 
on the wave of the second gives dignity to the diatonic melody; 
on the wave of the semitone, it increases its plaintiveness ; on 
the downward fifth and octave, if practicable, it adds to the 
degree of its wonder or positiveness; on the rising fifth and 
octave, if practicable, it sharpens interrogation; and on the 
wider waves gives dignity and force to their several expressions. 
We have said, the radical stress has an energy sometimes amount- 
ing even to violence. But the median, now under consideration, 
sets-forth intensity of voice, with greater dignity, and elegance, 
than all the other forms of force. The radical stress having an 
abrupt opening, and the vanishing, as will be shown .presently, 
having a sudden termination, there is a sharp earnestness in their 
manner, not conveyed by the median; the aim and power of 
which 'in the very torrent of expression,' is to 'beget a temper- 
ance that may give it smoothness.' 

Here pardon me, Reader, when I pass from instruction to 
eulogy. 

If she could now be heard, I would point in ilustration to 



382 THE MEDIAN STRESS. 

Britain's great Mistress of the voice. Since, alas, that cannot 
be, let those who have not forgotten the stately dignity of Mrs. 
Siddons, bear witness to the effect of the graceful vanish of her 
concrete, and of that swelling voice of median energy, by which 
she richly enforced the expression of joy, and surprise, and in- 
dignation. Yet why should I be so sparing in praise, as to select 
her eminent exemplification of the single subject before usj when 
it seems to my recolectionj a whole volume of elocution might be 
taught by her instances. 

It is apparently a partial rule of criticism, but when drawn 
from delicate perceptions, enlightened by cultivation, it is the 
bestj to estimate the merit of Actors, by their power of audibly 
representing the varied thought and passion of their language, 
which the consenting thought, and passion of the hearer is 
whispering to itself. This is the rule, that in my early days 
of ignorance, but not of unmindful inquiry, set up this great 
Woman's voice, as a mirror for every trait of natural expression, 
in which one might recognize his deep, unuttered sympathy, and 
love the flattering picture as his own. All that is smooth, and 
flexible, and various in intonation, all that is impressive in force, 
and in long-drawn time, all that is apt upon the countenance, 
and consonant in gesture, gave their united energy, gracefulness, 
grandeur, and truth, to this one great model of Ideal Elocution. 
Her's was that hight of excelence, which, defying mimicry, can 
be made perceptible thought only by being equaled. 

Such was my enthusiastic yet unsatisfied opinion, before a 
scrutiny into speech had developed a boundless scheme of criticism 
and instruction; which, in admitting that Nature may hold within 
her laws, the unrevealed power of producing occasional instances 
of rare accomplishment of voice; yet assures us, that nothing but 
the influence of some system of principles, founded on a knowl- 
edge of those laws, can ever produce multiplied examples of ex- 
celence, or give to any one the perfection of art. There is a 
pervading energy in Observative Science which searches, dis- 
covers, gathers-together, co-arranges, still amplifies, and com- 
pletes; and which all the means of uninstructed effort can never 
reach. I do not wish to be asked, how this 'most noble mother' 
of her Art, with only those unwritten ordinations of nature, that 



THE VANISHING STRESS. 383 

still allowed her to incur the dangers of the scanty doctrines of 
her Schoolj would be accounted by the side of another Siddons, 
making her selections with propriety and taste, from the familiar 
rudiments, and measurable functions of the voice; and able, by 
the authority of a directive and unindulgent discipline, to be a 
wary critic over herself. With a full reliance on the surpassing 
efficacy of scientific instruction, still, in the contentment of re- 
colection, I would not wish to answer this question. 

The vision of the Great Actress is before me! If I am beset 
by an ilusion, which another hearing might dispel, I rejoice to 
think I can never hear her again.* 



SECTION k XXXVIL 

Of the Vanishing Stress. 

Our description of the simple concrete of speech, represented 
it with an initial fulness, and a gradual decrease. The reverse 
construction indicated by the term of this Stress, does change 
the simple form of the concrete: but I thought, even with its 
verbal contrariety, it would be more immediately inteligible, if 
not more exactly descriptive of the function, than any other 
less simple name. The vanishing stress is an application of force 
to the end of the concrete, both in its rising and falling direc- 
tion. This must necessarily give a fulness, with something like 
an abrupt termination, at the place of the vanish. 

The peculiar vocal effect of the vanishing stress may be ilus- 
trated by the function of Hiccup. This Me, catch, l hitch' -cough, 
or hex, as formerly called, has a conventional name, that by 

* In the title 'most noble mother,' I refer to the salutation of Coriolanus to 
Volumnia: for it is in this character Mrs. Siddons always comes like a speak- 
ing picture, upon my memory ; embodying the pathos, the matron dignity, and 
the indignation, together with the other moral solemnities of the scene of in- 
tercession in the Volcian camp. 



384 THE VANISHING STRESS. 

etymology, describes its very formation; and from its being in- 
stinctively practicable, may be the subject of experiment. The 
hiccough or hiccup, then, is produced by the gradual increase 
of the guttural sound, until it is suddenly obstructed by an oc- 
cluded catch, somewhat resembling the element Jc, or g; and if it 
be compared with a single effort of the common cough, the abrupt- 
ness in each will respectively exemplify the reverse difference be- 
tween the vanishing and the radical stress: for the common cough 
has the full accented opening of a radical, and the hiccup, a full 
accented closing at the place of the vanish. The hiccup however, 
does not, in all points, resemble the proper vanishing stress of 
speech, except the sylable which bears the stress, terminates with 
an abrupt element. The hiccup may be made on all intervals of 
the scale. In ordinary cases, it assumes that of the second or 
third; but when attended with great distress, as sometimes hap- 
pens in disease, it is heard through the plaintive interval of the 
semitone. 

The effect of the vanishing stress may be heard in the speech 
of the natives of Ireland; many of whom apply it to the simple 
rise, or fall, or to the wave, on all the principal words of a sen- 
tence. It is this function which produces that quick and peculiar 
jerk of sylabic sound, in the earnest pronunciation of the ignorant 
ranks of that peculiar People. 

The vanishing stress is practicable on all the rising and falling 
intervals of the scale. On the wave, it is applied to the last 
constituent. 

This stress, as one of the forms of force, gives to the several 
intervals, a more attractive power over the ear, than belongs 
to their simple concretes. If perceptible at all, on the plain 
inexpressive second, it adds that Irish jerk which only deforms 
without enforcing speech. On the rising third, fifth, and octave, 
it gives intensity to their interrogation. On the downward course 
of these intervals, it increases the degree of surprise and positive- 
ness; and on the wave, joins force to the expression of its various 
forms. 

The effect of the vanishing stress on a semitone, may be heard 
in the act of Sobbing. This is made on a concrete guttural sound, 
gradually increasing in force and terminated in some cases by the 



THE COMPOUND STRESS. 385 

occluded catch. The vanishing stress on the semitone in dis- 
course, is as it were, a sobbing upon words, and serves to mark 
intensively, the plaintive expression of the simple concrete. 

The character of discourse occasionally requires so quick a 
time, that only the simple rise or fall can be employed; and yet, 
it may be necessary to designate clearly, the terminative point of 
the interval. This is accomplished by the vanishing stress. For 
a hasty utterance of complaint or interrogation, which has time 
for flight only in one direction, will, in marking emphatically the 
extent of the interval, apply this terminative force to the simple 
rise or fall of the semitone, third, fifth, or octave. 

It was saidj the radical stress is effective, principally in distin- 
guishing immutable sylables. On these the vanishing stress is not 
conizable. It requires a longer quantity; and its application 
thereon, gives an equal degree of force with the median stress; 
but it has much less dignity and grace than the gradual swell of 
this last named elegant manner of forcible expression. 



—•»►►© © 9 ««" 



SECTION XXXVIII. 

Of the Compound Stress. 

Besides the obvious effect of stress, when laid exclusively on 
the beginning, or middle, or end of the concrete, the cultivated 
and attentive ear recognizes the abrupt opening of the radical, 
and the full termination of the vanishing stress, when used in 
succession on the same sylable, both in a rising and falling direc- 
tion. The best reference, for ilustrating this Compound stress, is 
to what vocalists call a Shake : for I shall endeavor to show here- 
after, that the characteristic of this Grace of Song, consists in a 
rapid iteration of the concrete of speech, when impressed with 
both the radical, and vanishing stresses. 

The compound stress, though never applied to the narrow in- 
tervals of the scale, is distinguishable, on the wider spaces of the 



386 THE THOROUGH STRESS. 

fifth, and octave. It may likewise be executed on the various 
forms of the wave; the final stress being then laid on the last 
constituent. 

After what has been said respectively of the radical and the 
vanishing stress, this under consideration being a compound of 
themj it is scarcely necessary to add, that it more forcibly de- 
notes the state of mind singly indicated by each constituent. And 
although an alternation of the radical, with the vanishing stress, 
is beautifully exemplified in the rapid shake of song, and may be 
deliberately executed on a long sylable, in the speaking voice ; 
yet this compound function cannot, on a short quantity, be dis- 
tinguished from the simple radical abruptness; nor is there in 
this case, time for its execution. 

Let us suppose, a sylable of long quantity embracing an angry 
or authoritative inquiry; and that the fifth, with prolonged into- 
nation, is the interval chosen for this interrogative. The force 
required here as the sign of anger or authority, would be repre- 
sented by the radical stress ; the full-marked extent of the inter- 
val under the increased force of the vanish, would give a corre- 
sponding energy and impressiveness to the interrogation. The 
compound stress is however, by no means an agreeable form of 
force. There is a snappish rudeness in its character, that should 
always be avoided by a good reader, except on those rare occa- 
sions which especially call for the peculiarity of its expression. 



— »►>■© @ ©*«— 

SECTION XXXIX. 

Of the Thorough Stress. 

This form of force on the concrete is produced by a continua- 
tion of the same full body of voice throughout its whole course. 
It may be applied to all the rising and falling intervals, and in 
continuation to the several constituents of the wave. 

The character of this stress may be perceved, by continuing an 



THE THOROUGH STRESS. 387 

octave, with the same volume of voice, through its whole course, 
as represented by the last symbol in the foregoing diagram^ and 
comparing its effect with that of the simple radical and vanishing 
octave, shown by the first. The peculiar character of this con- 
tinued volume, will not only be obvious, but the interrogative 
effect of the octave will be greatly obscured by it; for the true 
interrogative interval is, through habit, known to the ear by its 
attenuated vanish, as well as by its extent. 

The thorough stress may perhaps be occasionally used for some 
especial emphasis, on short indefinite, on immutable, and on mu- 
table sylables; though it is then not distinguishable from the 
radical stress. Its peculiar character on long quantities, in 
phrases and sentences, is that of uncouth and rustic coarseness; 
and if I may so speak, its blunt impression on the ear, seems 
alike related to the delicate effect of the equable concrete, as a 
rude sketch on the canvas, to the graceful lines, tinted color, and 
blended light and shadow of the finished picture. With an ex- 
ception of the occasions for its use, on shorter quantities, just 
stated, it is to be employed only for the comic personation of 
those, with whom, as a coarse deformity of speech it is instinctive; 
or on occasions, when through those insufficiencies, Public-School- 
ing, Morals, Law, and the Pulpit, it may be sadly necessary to 
meet the brutal tongue, upon the field of its own vocal degrada- 
tion. Without raising here, the blinding dust of argument, on 
the moral question of returning good for evilj the rule is less dis- 
putable, that civility of voice is not always to be returned to its 
rudeness. For those, who by accident ever come into contact 
with the savage in civilization, know that a hard-voiced word of 
retort, to a rough address, has sometimes saved much subsequent 
verbal, if not worse contention. Just as a well-presented posture 
of defense to a menaced attack has, from some lurking calculation 
in a seeming courage, often prevented serious consequences of 
personal as well as national strife.* 

* Testimony might be brought to the fact, that nothing on occasions, more 
moderates the incipient insolence of a blackguard -with all his boldness, than 
the ready return of an assumed phrase of thorough-stressed and peace-making 
profanity, from a modest individual, -with clean and delicate hands and face, 
who did not seem to hold in readiness, a warning oath as preface to a blow. 



388 THE THOROUGH STRESS. 

From time almost immemorial, every man, and every class of 
men has tried in vain, to satisfy the anxious inquirer, as to the 
exact sign, and comprehensible character of the true Christian, 
the honest Patriot, and the real Gentleman. In the last case, 
Aristocracy and Democracy, those eternal combatants, have al- 
ways been the most remote from agreement. The latter how- 
ever, particularly in Our Country of Equal Rights, Overbearing 
Corporations, and Despotic Majorities, having come to a una- 
nimity, has at last with a popular 'logic,' given the acceptable 
definition; and terminated all invidious distinctions, by making 
every Man a Gentleman, and every Woman a Lady. Leaving 
others to review the Census of this vast and novel Genus, on 
those points that may have fallen under their discriminating ob- 
servationj it is only our part, to perceve among all the generic 
similarities, some specific differences of Intonation. For if that 
affable address, that refined reply, that vocal invitation to a well- 
bred sociability, that delicate vanish which gently passes from the 
ear to the heart ; if in short, the kindly meaning of the Equable 
Concrete, is different from that clownish answer which figura- 
tively repels us with a vocal frown, and from that coldness of 
thought, and death of every complacency embraced within the 
rudeness of the Thorough Stress^ then is he who has the gracious 
intonation which seems to turn the stranger at once into the 
friend, a world-wide different from that laconic Dog in office, with 
his surly No; that fool-wealthy Ignoramus, with his bluff com- 
mand; and in mind as well as in voice, from the coarse and vicious 
vulgarity of that hitherto unknown species, in progressive creation, 
the American Rowdy.* 

*I say, hitherto unknown; yet Ethnologists, skilled in tracing the wafted 
seeds, and the offsets of nationality, have hinted at the 'habitat' of this 'pre- 
morse root' of the voices in the pasture of our gruffy ancestor John Bull: or in 
the hunting and cricket grounds, and in the 'wassail braying-out' on the Estate 
of the English country Gentleman, ' all of the olden time.' With this Rowdy, of 
whatever origin, who practically personifies a compliment to our astonishing 
advancement in Morality, Refinement, Legislative Energy, Law, and in States- 
man-Supervisionj the rudeness of the stressful concrete, is an inborn vice. 
Gipsies and thieves of the Old World have a conventional slang, for mislead- 
ing the fearless search of justice. But the surpassing Rowdy of the New, know- 
ing himself to be above the law, boldly writes his threatening titles on our 
walls, and openly proclaims the watchword of his conspiring Crew. Among 



THE THOROUGH STRESS. 389 

I do not say, though it may be often true, that the man who 
has no vanish in his voice, is fit for 'stratagems and spoils:' But 
I do belevej if Shakspeare had chosen to look as far into speech, 
as he did into thought, passion, and language^ he would have seen 
that Nature has, in the human voice, her especial sign of the 
Boorish and Unruly, as well as of the Unmusical 'soul;' and 
would, in some of his own fine analytic metaphors, if not with a 
mentivity aptly turned to explanatory science, clearly have de- 
scribed it. Nor is this beyond a just estimate of the natural 
power of his Panoramic Observation. 

In closing this section, we may once more contrast the rude 
intonation of the thorough stress, with the craving voice of the 

these words, so called from some low conceit or other, are Boy, and Sir. Both 
of these allow a delicate execution of the vanish. This however is not suited 
to the Rowdy's character: and Nature, true to her signs of the good and the 
bad, directs him, by another instinct, to give these words, in the warning into- 
nation of the thorough stress. This coming to the mouths of the populace, they 
have made an awkward imitation of the thorough, by changing it to something 
like the compound stress. And this leading to a division of the words into two 
sylables, has given us the vulgar slang of the streets, as we every where hear 
it, in Bo-hoy and Sir-ree. 

The full, and the hair-stroke lines of the graceful old copper plate letter, and 
some of the deformities of modern type, afford symbols for these different states 
of the concrete. A love of variety among Conventual Scribes, once perverted 
and distorted the Roman alphabet almost beyond recognition. The same effort 
to overwhelm taste with novelty, is now in progress by the Sign-painter, and 
the Printer of placards. Among a thousand awkward oddities of the Type- 
founder, we can find something just to our purpose. The well finished form of 
Roman capitals, and punctuation, with their full, and their vanishing lines, 
contrast remarkably, as in the following diagram, with their rowdy-looking coun- 
terparts; designed under that Widely-Destructive Principle, recognized in Pop- 
ular Taste^ of 'Something New.' It is I must say, a notion; but the Roman C 




elegantly pictures to me the equable concrete: the rowdy Type-founder's 
modern improvement reminds me of the coarseness of the thorough stress. Al- 
together, the contrast brings to mind, the difference between the reported ease 
of hand in that graceful and celebrated linear scroll by Appelles, and the twist- 
ing turns of a crooked billet. 



390 THE LOUD CONCRETE. 

Hypocrite and the Sycophant, insinuating their several ways to 
authority and favor. The Rowdy, more true to his violence, uses 
the heavy stress, to alarm the unwary, and is then ready to break 
through all opposition. The subtilty of the others, without a 
warning rattle to the unsuspecting victim, abuses the delicate, 
kind, and honorable purpose of the social vanish, by its servile 
excess, and its puling application to every variety of sinister 
thought, with nothing so far from it as honesty and natural 
passion. 



SECTION XL. 
Of the Loud Concrete. 

By the Loud Concrete, I mean that impressive stress which 
distinguishes a given sylable from adjacent ones; the parts of 
the concrete still retaining the proportional structure of the radi- 
cal and vanish. It is only what was called the simple concrete, 
magnified, if we may so speak, in similarity throughout its course, 
by emphatic stress. It is not obvious on a very short quantity ; 
the radical stress being there, the proper form of force. 

Although it has no peculiar character of expression, it will be 
refered to, in a future section, on Accent. 

All the forms of stress, here enumerated, may be applied to 
the tittelar course of the tremor, in the simple intervals, and 
in the wave; thereby giving a more marked expression to the 
gayety of laughter; to the plaintiveness of crying; to the exulta- 
tion of tremulous emphasis, whether in rising or falling; and to 
interrogation. 



THE TIME OF THE CONCRETE. 391 



SECTION XLI. 

Of the Time of the Concrete. 

The radical and vanishing movement was represented as 
having an equable continuation of time throughout its progress^ 
and thereby distinguished from the protracted radical and pro- 
tracted vanish of Song. 

The purposes of expression sometimes demand a change of 
this equability of the concrete, to a quicker utterance of its be- 
ginning, or middle, or end. This condition of time is closely 
connected with an application of the different forms of stress; 
for it is difficult to give stress without running into quickness of 
time; and as difficult to give quickness to time without marking 
the rapid part of the concrete with stress. The relation of these 
functions is most conspicuous in the radical stress; for its sudden 
burst is necessarily a momentary quickness of utterance. The 
median and the vanishing stress, when strongly emphatic, like- 
wise carry with them a run of time ; for there is in these cases, 
an endeavor, however fruitless, to effect, on an unbroken con- 
crete, something like the explosion of the radical. These fitful 
gusts of breath through the radical, median, and vanishing 
places, necessarily occur along with their respective stresses, on 
all the intervals of the scale, and at those points of the wave 
where the stress is applied. There may also be a compound 
quick time of the concrete, attendant on the compound stress, in 
the prolonged movements of speech. But perhaps this is only a 
refinement in observation. 

On the whole, regarding the time of the concrete separately 
from stress, it is not of any practical importance, in expression. 
It was my purpose to give a history of speech. This quickness 
was perceved, and it is therefore transiently noticed. 



►92 THE ASPIRATION. 



SECTION XLII. 

Of the Aspiration. 

We have hitherto learned, how the five modes of the voice, 
Vocality, Time, Pitch, Abruptness, and Force, together with the 
absence of all impression in the Pause, do by their separate and 
their mingled influence produce the varied effects of speech already 
described. 

The works of nature are inexhaustible patterns of permutation; 
and the function now to be considered, will show additional means 
for diversifying the effect of those signs of expression, heretofore 
described. The subject of this section does properly belong to 
the Mode of vocality ; but having receved a place and name among 
the alphabetic elements, and having peculiar properties, it deserves 
a separate notice here. I shall therefore endeavor to show that 
the element denoted by the letter h, or, as it is called, the Aspira- 
tion, has eminent powers of expression. 

By calling h a mere breathing, some authors have assumed the 
right to reject this element from the alphabet. It may be said in 
truth, that aspiration, as a separate and unemphatic element, is 
feeble, and has not the tunable and flexile vocality of the tonics: 
yet while harrow and arrow owe the difference in their meanings 
respectively to the presence and absence of the element^ that 
breathing must fulfil the purpose of articulation, without con- 
forming to the exact definition of it. Notwithstanding, the de- 
fects of aspiration cannot be denied, under the cold measurement 
of the grammarian, it is still pre-eminently entitled to notice, as 
a powerful agent in oratorical expression. 

The element h is slightly susceptible of pitch in the whispered 
scale; of abruptness, in a whispered cough; and freely admits of 
extended quantity. In this form, it furnishes the expressive in- 
terjection of Sighing. It has, to a certain degree, the variations 
of force; and under the calls of emphasis, is remarkably dis- 
played on the median stress. Its force may be more effectually 






THE ASPIRATION. 393 

exerted on the beginning of words; especially those having uni- 
versally an energetic meaning, as havoc, horror, and huzza. It is 
combined with most of the interjections, in all languages. 

Besides the above mentioned instances of its expression, where 
common orthography has given it a literal place, it is in certain 
cases of emphasis, engrafted on the several tonics and subtonics. 
For though aspiration is with its literal symbol, sometimes a dis- 
tinct constituent of sylablesj it may as a mere sufflation, be 
severally united with other elements having a vocality, without 
destroying their individual characters. The vocality of the tonic 
is impaired by the union; for the purity of a tonic element was 
negatively defined, by declaring its freedom from aspiration; 
but the expressive effect in this case compensates for the loss 
of purity. 

There is some unknown mechanism of speech, by which the 
strenuous pronunciation of a tonic element becomes semi- aspirated. 
If the word horrible be deprived of its aspirate, it will be impossi- 
ble to give orrible, in prolonged and energetic exclamation, with- 
out restoring in a great degree, the initial aspiration. The ques- 
tion how far this unavoidable combination operated to introduce 
the aspirated element, for the forcible expression of mere animal 
energy, at the date of what is called the origin of languagej we 
leave to the everlasting disputes of those who look for truth in 
conjecture, and who teaze themselves by the notional pursuit of 
undiscoverable things. 

Efforts of vociferation on sylables which do not contain the 
letter h, nevertheless assume the aspiration, and corrupt thereby 
the pure character of the tonics. Nay, in the excessive force of 
such efforts, the voice is sometimes lost, as it is called, from the 
atonic aspiration overruling the tonic vocality. The character of 
these united functions, when forcibly uttered, may be ilustrated 
by the subtonics y-e, and w-o, respectively a compound of aspi- 
ration with the monothongs ee-l, and oo-zq. The other three 
monothongs e-rr, e-nd, z-n, when united with aspiration, become 
obscurely the basis of the several other subtonics. And although 
the subtonics are formed by the mingling of vocalities with aspi- 
ration, they may yet bear further aspiration, for the purpose of 
energetic expression. 
26 



394 THE ASPIRATION. 

The dipthongal tonics do not receve the aspiration with the 
same effect as the monothongs; there being something in the 
character of the former that prevents as great a change upon 
them, as takes place on the monothongs, bj the union. 

It was shown formerly that whispering, which is only the 
articulated form of aspiration, has its pitch, upon a succession of 
different alphabetic elements; yet whatever may be the difficulties 
of this articulated intonationj the simple sufflation, when engrafted 
on the tonics, passes concretely through all the intervals of the 
scale, and unites itself with every form of stress. 

To show how far this function assists in the expression of 
speech, let us keep in mind what was said above, on the instinc- 
tive union of a vehement exertion of the voice, with its aspira- 
tion; and consider further, two forms under which the simple 
aspiration is employed. 

One is a sort of facetious comment of surprise and incredulity, 
in common use, consisting of an effort of aspiration modified by 
the tongue and lips, into what is called, in the fifth section, the 
sufflated whisper. The movement of this sufflated interjection is 
that of an unequal direct wave; the first constituent being a tone 
or wider interval, according to the required expression^ and the 
second, a descent to the lowest audible pitch.* 

The other effort of aspiration, is made by the larynx alone, and 
constitutes the function of Sighing. It consists of a simple inspi- 
ration, followed by an expiration, more or less prolonged through 

* The Elocutionist has certainly not talked without his books. And although 
he seems never to have been concerned at not coming to his hearing, among 
their number and confusion^ yet he has been, and still is, sorely afraid of 
admitting a full and precise nomenclature into them. Our analysis now en- 
ables us to point out the form of intonation in the prolonged and derisive 
interjection, Whew, of the grammarian; though neither grammar nor elocution 
has taken the trouble to find it out, and to tell us, what it is. When the Reader 
utters this suffiated interjection, by a descent from a very high to a very low 
pitch, he will have an ilustration of what was said in the fifth section, on the 
scale of Whisper-; for this sufflation, having e-ve at its upper extreme, and 
oo- ze at its lower, will prove, by the position of these elements on the scale, that 
it passes through two octaves; the rapidity of the concrete movement, as it 
seems to me, preventing the clear perception of the intermediate elements. In 
this case, the interjection differs from that described in the textj and is the 
sufflation of whew through a double downward octave. 



THE ASPIRATION. 395 

a falling second or wider interval, or a semitonic wave, according 
to the character and intensity of the expression. A sigh is the 
well known out-pouring of distress, grief, and anxiety, and of 
fatigue and exhaustion, both of body and mind. As these dif- 
ferent cases include the general powers of expression, in simple 
and natural aspiration, we can inferj what will be the effect when 
this aspiration is joined with the vocality of speech. 

It may seem, but can only seem, to be an exception to the con- 
sistency of nature, that a voice, which can assume the quiet form 
of whisper, should with changeful purpose, be found united with 
vocality in the most forcible exertion of speech. Yet aspiration 
conjoined with the vehement forms of stress, becomes one of the 
signs of the greatest vocal energy. Its union therefore with a 
rising or falling interval of the scale in the Natural voice, in- 
creases the expressive power of that interval; and perhaps adds 
the effect of sneer to intonations, that in their purely vocal form 
severally convey surprise, interrogation, irony, and command. 

Should this union of aspiration and vocality be given with an 
abatement of voice, approximating towards a whisper or a sigh, 
it becomes the sign of earnestness in various states of mind. The 
following lines, when uttered in a pure vocality, will not have 
their proper expression. 

Hah! dost thou not see, by the moon's trembling light, 
Directing his steps, where advances a Knight, 
His eye big with vengeance and fate? 

Nor would their purpose be effected by an aspirated vocifera- 
tion. But when subdued to a kind of union of the natural with 
the whispered voice, the earnestness of the appealing interrogation 
is at once, obvious and expressive. 

Should an abated voice be aspirated on the Tremulous move- 
ment of a second or wider interval, it may denote apprehension 
or fear. When this abatement is aspirated on a simple rise or 
fall, or on a wave of the semitone, it is an approximation to the 
sigh; and adds intensity to the plaintiveness or distress of the 
semitone on a pure vacality. When a tremor is superadded to 
the aspirated semitone, the voice exerts its ultimate means, for 



396 THE EMPHATIC VOCULE. 

denoting the deepest sadness, without the assistance of crying 
and tears. 

Aspiration when combined with different forms of stress, and 
with the guttural voice, to be described presently, severally de- 
notes sneer, contempt, and scorn: hence the means of joining 
with nearly every interval of intonation the expression of these 
various states of mind. Even the simple rising and falling move- 
ments, indicating inquiry, surprise, and emphatic affirmation, may 
thus be made contemptuous; the effect being more strongly 
marked by aspiration on the wave in its unequal form. 



~*©@©«4~— 



SECTION XLIII. 

Of the Emphatic Vocule. 

We learned, on the subject of the alphabetic elements, that 
when the articulative occlusion is removed from the atonies and 
subtonics, there is a slight and momentary but sudden issue of 
voice which completes their vocality, and is the only sound of the 
aspirated abrupt elements. This was called the Vocule. It is a 
moderate degree of Abruptness. Like all other voices, it is sus- 
ceptible of force; and constitutes the function named at the 
head of this section. The emphatic vocule denotes great energy; 
and necessarily follows a word, terminated by one of the abrupt 
elements. 

The vocules of b, d, and g, are vocal. Those of k, p, and t, 
are aspirated^ yet under a forcible emphasis, are sometimes 
changed to vocality. The use of this unarticulated explosion, 
at the end of an emphatic word is justified only under a ve- 
hement state of mind; and cautious management is necessary 
to prevent its forcible utterance from passing into rant or af- 
fectation. 

When an abrupt element precedes a tonic, the vocule is lost in 



THE EMPHATIC VOCULE. 397 

the tonic, which then seems to issue directly from the abrupt 
element. In the word light, the vocule is distinctly heard at its 
termination ; but if t immediately precedes the tonic »', as in tile, 
the vocule is lost, and t is then only a peculiar radical opening 
of i. This is a proper coalescence, except the abrupt element 
terminates a word. For in this case, a junction of the vocule 
with the tonic of a following word, may confuse pronunciation by 
destroying that clear limit which should give a separated indi- 
viduality to every word of a sentence. This fault is sometimes 
even purposely assumed^ to remedy a want of physical energy in 
utterance. Persons who attempt to give unusual force to their 
radical stress, and who cannot readily explode the voice on a tonic, 
avail themselves of the facility of bursting-out from the final abrupt 
element of a word into a succeding tonic. If the phrase bad 
angels, should require force, either for emphasis, or for a distant 
auditory* the explosion of d into an would produce the coalescence 
bad dang els, or ba- dang els. But as the arrangement of elements 
is a casual thing, it must happen that the same word will occur in 
discourse, both with and without a preceding abrupt element; and 
besides, the common exertion of force does not require the coa- 
lescence. These circumstances will prevent the effect of the junc- 
tion becoming familar to the ear, and passing for a proper and 
constant character of the word. A forcible pronunciation accord- 
ing to this method, will therefore sometimes create confusion in 
the perception of words; and lead in most instances, to that 
momentary hesitation on the part of an audience, which prevents 
a ready comprehension of oral discourse. Let the phrase music 
sweet art, be pronounced in this manner, and the combination 
will present an image both ludicrous and contradictory. 

If what has been said, on the means for effecting distinct artic- 
ulation, by a full and clearly formed radical stress, is strictly 
applied;* the designed purpose of this junction of tonic with abrupt 
elements may be accomplished without interfering with the per- 
ception of a clear outline in the boundary of words; for this 
demarkation is necessary for distinct and dignified utterance, in 
the thoughtful purpose of an exalted elocution. 

In the rapid energy of coloquial speech, and of the passionate 



398 THE GUTTURAL VIBRATION. 

haste of emphatic discourse, this coalescence of the elements is 
more liable to occur; nor in these instances can it always be 
avoided. 



SECTION XLIV. 

Of the Guttural Vibration. 

In our section on the mechanism of the voice, it was shown 
that the retraction of the root of the tongue, together with a 
closure of the pharynx, produces what seems to be a contact of 
the sides of the vocal canal above the glottis, and giving rise 
to a harsh vibrationj from the gush of air through the straitened 
passage. This peculiar sound may be made on both tonic and 
subtonic elements; nor is their articulation much affected, by 
union with this Grating noise. I have called this function the 
Guttural Vibration, on account of its apparent formal cause. 

This guttural function is practicable on all the intervals of the 
scale ; and it adds to their respective characters, its own peculiar 
expression. This expression consists in the strongest degree of 
contempt, disgust, aversion, or execration; and these states are 
most strongly marked on the intonation of the waves. 

When the guttural vibration is given with an exploded radical 
stress, it makes the speaker himself feel, in its disruption, that 
the effect must spread widely around him; and by this combined 
percussive influence must, with the fulest power of expression, 
break through the ear, and so to speak, into the very heart of an 
audience. 



Having thus described the peculiar forms and degrees of Vo- 
cality, Time, Force, Abruptness, and Pitch, and having shown 
the application of force to the different parts of the concrete^ we 
are now prepared to consider their various uses on single words 
and sylables, comprehended under the terms Accent, and Em- 
phasis. This detail will form respectively the subjects of the two 
following sections. 



OF ACCENT. 399 



SECTION XLV. 

Of Accent. 

Accent is defined in philology to bej the Distinguishing of one 
sylable of a word from others, by the application of greater vocal 
force upon it. This is a true, but limited account of accentj for 
it will be found that the accentual characteristic consists in a syl- 
able being brought under the special notice of the ear. This 
may be done by force ; but it may be likewise effected through 
other audible means. 

In a mature language, no word uttered singly, except as an 
eliptical proposition, conveys any inteligible relationship or mean- 
ing. Accent, as we use the term, is an attribute only of indi- 
vidual words, and cannot therefore embrace what is properly 
called expression. When a word, either through force or other 
cause, denotes a remarkable meaning, it constitutes what is called 
Emphasis. 

If we have here accurately stated the difference between accent 
and emphasis^ Accent may be described in general terms, to be 
the fixed, but inthoughtive, and inexpressive distinction between 
the sylables of a word; and forming in every word of more than 
one, that essential and striking feature, by which thought or pas- 
sion is, when required, emphatically conveyed. This simple 
audible-prominence of accent may be effected by radical stressj 
the loud concrete^ and a longer quantity on the noted sylable. 

And First. Radical stress is the appropriate accent of immu- 
table sylables. The word iterated has four short sylables, with 
the accent on the first. Its brevity not admitting the distinction 
of a prolonged quantity, or even of the loud concrete, the accent 
must be made by a sudden burst of the Radical, into a momentary 
stress. The accent may be readily transfered to each of the other 
sylables, by giving the necessary degree of radical abruptness 
respectively to them. 

Second. Sylables of sufficient length to render the radical and 
26* 



400 OF ACCENT. 

vanishing movement conizable, admit of accentual distinction by 
the Loud concrete. In the word Partington, the three sylables 
are of moderate length, and about equal. As the first has quan- 
tity sufficient to prevent the necessity of adopting the explosive 
radical stress, its high accentual relief can be brought outj and 
readily transfered to each of the others, by the loud concrete 
alone. Sylables adapted to the loud concrete may receve at the 
same time, an addition of the radical stress; the former however 
being adequate to the inexpressive purpose of accent, radical ab- 
ruptness is unnecessary. 

As the Thorough stress may sometimes be applied on a moder- 
ately short sylable, it might be assigned, as one of the means of 
accent; but it is scarcely to be distinguished from the radical 
stress and from the loud concrete, on these short quantities^ and 
therefore does not here deserve a separate consideration. 

Third. When the time or quantity of one sylable excedes the 
time of another, that quantity, according to our definition, may 
give an attractive or accentual distinction; and though unas- 
sisted by loudness or abruptness, sometimes necessarily assumes 
it. The word victory, pronounced with the usual degree of radi- 
cal stress on the first sylable, and the second subsequently pro- 
longed, as if written vic-toe-ry, has the impressive distinction^ 
which in this case may be called the Temporal accentj postponed 
to that second, even though it should be uttered with comparative 
feebleness, and with all possible omission of abruptness. Words 
which consist of sylables of equal time, such as needful, empire, 
farewell, sincere, and amen, easily undergo a change of accent to 
either sylable, by a slight addition to its length. The word heaven, 
pronounced as one sylable, heavn, has the accent in its long quan- 
tity: divided into two sylables of equal time, as in heav-en, the 
place of the accent is doubtful, or the word may be said to have 
two equal accents. 

These are the three means for accentual distinction; accent 
being the prominent and fixed feature that identifies a word, 
independently of any peculiar thought or expression. And as 
they are sufficient to give importance to sylables, without denoting 
at the same time thought or passion, which is the purpose of 
emphasisj we may perceve the line of separation between these 






OF ACCENT. 401 

functions. It is true, emphasis cannot exist without accent, for 
the emphatic is always the accented sylable; and the expressive 
power of intonation, time, and stress must give the emphatic syl- 
able that attractive influence which constitutes the essential agency 
of accent. 

I have pointed out only the radical stress^ the thorough con- 
ditionally on shorter quantitiesj and the loud concrete^ as the 
causes of accent, derived from force ; for the median, the van- 
ishing, and the compound, are more commonly used as the 
means of expression: and in the plain pronunciation of a single 
word, surely no one does employ these last named forms of 
stress. 

Notwithstanding all the kinds of accent here enumerated, are 
represented independently of pitch, still they are necessarily 
applied on one or other of its intervals. In plain narrative or 
description, the radical stress, and loud concrete, and perhaps 
the thorough stress, are joined with the tone; and the temporal 
accent, when not unduly prolonged, may take-on the direct and 
inverted wave of the same interval. For this gives dignity to 
utterance by means of its deliberate movement, without convey- 
ing any peculiar expression incompatible with the simple pur- 
pose of accent. This remark (loes not refer to accent on single 
words, which has no character either of dignity or of expression. 

The use of the three kinds of accent, being in a considerable 
degree governed by the time of sylables, it is desirable to know 
the circumstances which render them severally applicable^ make 
them easily changeable^ and give them a predominant and con- 
troling influence. 

Sylables, with regard to their time, were arranged under three 
classes, The Immutable, Mutable, and Indefinite. Radical stress 
is the means for distinguishing immutable sylables. The loud 
concrete may be given to the mutable; as they have sufficient 
length for the display of force, without the necessity of an abrupt 
explosion. Indefinite sylables admit of the attractive distinction 
of the temporal accent; and yet they are sometimes pronounced 
equally short with the immutable. Thus lo in loquacity, and lo, 
as an emphatic interjection, exemplify the extremes of duration. 



402 OF ACCENT. 

Hence, the radical stress may sometimes be used on an indefinite 
sylable, in its shortest time; as it is in the accent of the words, 
idleness and orderly. 

Some words, consisting of a long and a short sylable, allow the 
accents of stress and quantity readily to exchange with each 
other. In the noun perfume, the length of the last sylable yields 
to the stress, with a slight extension of quantity, on the first: in 
the verb perfume, the stress as easily gives way to the temporal 
accent on fume. 

Of all the means by which one accented sylable of a single 
word is embossed upon the ear, if I may so speak, in higher 
relief than others, the most common is that of the temporal im- 
pression. In English words the accented sylable is generally the 
longest; and the excess of length alone^ without radical abrupt- 
ness, or an increase of force on the whole concrete, above the 
neighboring sylablesj is sufficient to answer the purposes of ac- 
centual distinction. The majority of writers, without sufficient 
examination, have resolved all accents into excess of force. 

Inasmuch as the radical is the principal form of stress for short 
sylables; and as the loud concrete may be applied on all but the 
immutable, it may be inquired, whether stress, or quantity has 
the greater influence in pronunciation, by its controling or ex- 
cluding power. In most words, this predominant influence is 
readily changeable; as in Albano, Cordova, Ontario, commemo- 
ration, and purlieu; the accent, of whatever kind, being in these 
instances as easily practicable on one sylable as on another. But 
in words with the arrangement, and the habitual pronunciation, of 
beguile, indeed, delay, and revenge, the temporal accent cannot be 
deprived of its supremacy, by a radical stress on the first syla- 
ble, except through an effort in exploding the first, and abbreviat- 
ing the last. For it is sometimes necessary to reduce the quantity 
of one sylable, that the radical stress may take the lead on an- 
other. The accent of the word Emanuel, lies in the extended 
time of the second sylable. Scarcely any degree of abruptness 
can transfer the accent to U, while man retains its quantity. 
When this is shortened, the first sylable E, may, under a strong 
radical stress, be made the leading accent; but the word will 
hardly be recognized in the change. 



OF ACCENT. 403 

In regarding the subject of accent, it ought to be borne in 
mind that a difference in the vocality of the elementary sounds, 
may in some cases, be mistaken for a difference in stress ; for 
to many an ear, ee-\ and ale might seem to be surpassed by 
ou-t and a-we. If however, there is that predominance, then 
vocality may sometimes be a cause of accent, or may assist its 
influence. 

The elements have different degrees of susceptibility, in re- 
ceving the accent. The tonics more easily and conspicuously 
take-on each of its three forms. The abrupt elements are heard 
in the vanishing stress, and assist the radical explosion on the 
tonics; but are utterly incapable of the loud concrete, and the 
temporal accent. The subtonics have little or no power, under 
the radical stress; yet they fulfil all the purposes of quantity; the 
atonies, though heard in the emphatic vocule, never, in proper and 
unaffected speech, receve accentual distinction. 

The impressive agency of accent upon the ear, is fixed in the 
pronunciation of the English language, on one or two sylables of 
all words, with more than one. It is an abundant source of 
variety in speech ; forms in part, the measure of our versifica- 
tion; and when skilfully disposed, by the adjustment of a delicate 
ear, produces with the assistance of quantity and pause, the 
varied rythmic measure of prose. 

Some grammarians and rhetoricians, with whom the inteligent 
Mr. Sheridan is to be ranked, have set-forth a rule, that when 
the accent falls on a consonant, the sylable is short; and long 
when on a vowel. At school, I did not regard this great pro- 
sodial principle: now, I perceve it has no foundation. For if 
accent is variously produced by radical stress, the loud concrete, 
and by quantity^ a distinction of literal place cannot make the 
supposed difference. The abrupt stress will always be made on a 
tonic, (or vowel,) notwithstanding the sylable may be opened on 
a preceding subtonic, or an abrupt element. The loud concrete 
must be applied on all the elements without distinction; and an 
accentual impression by quantity must consist of the united time 
of tonics and subtonics, when the sylable is constructed with 
these different elements. All this however, is only a denial of 
the truth of the rule, on the ground of our own history of accent. 



404 OF EMPHASIS. 

Let us hear how the rule agrees with the fact of pronunciation. 
In the word ac-tion, the abrupt stress is on the vowel (tonic) a; 
for e (k) in this case, having no bocty of sound, is but the oc- 
cluded termination of ajyet the sylable is short; and in re-venge y 
the accent or the greatest impression on the ear, is from the 
quantity of the subtonics (consonants) n, and zh* and yet the 
sylable is long. Language is full of like examples; and from 
the ilustration they furnish, we may learn that the time of syla- 
bles bears no fixed relation to stress, nor to other means of ac- 
centual agency. The prevalent error on this subject must be 
ascribed to the general cause of all errors; a want of observation 
at first, and the assumption of notions, to prevent observation 
ever after, by those who adopt them. 

Mr. Walker has given a theory of accent; making it dependent 
on the rising and falling inflection, as indefinitely described by 
him. If the preceding history of intonation is true, and if it 
has been clearly comprehended, the Reader must conclude, that 
accent can have no fixed relationship to a rise of the voice, or to 
its descent; for it is effected with every essential characteristic, 
under either of these opposite movements^ their junction into the 
wavej and under all the changeable phrases of melody. 

Much has been said by authors, on the application of accent. 
But with the sole means of the Tongue and the Ear, yet with 
scholastic authority all around me, I began this history of the 
voice, with a resolution to speak from Nature; and not after 
men, too blind or too proud to consult Her ever-open, and Re- 
vealing Book of Speech. 



SECTION XLVI. 

Of Emphasis. 

Emphasis is defined to be a stress of voice on one or more 
words of a sentence, thereby to forcibly impress the hearer with 
their peculiarity of meaning. Most writers, .without seeming to 



OF EMPHASIS. 405 

consider the subject of much importance, indefinitely attribute to 
emphasis, a characteristic 'tone;' and Mr. Walker beleved he 
specified this function throughout all its conditions, in his general, 
and vague account of the upward and downward inflection. 

But authority aside; let us try to do something to the purpose, 
by observing and recording. 

It was stated, that Accent is the fixed, but inihoughtive and 
inexpressive distinction of sylables, by quantity and stress; alike 
both in place and character, whether the words are pronounced 
singly from the columns of a vocabulary, or connectedly in the 
series of discourse. 

Emphasis is either the tlwugJitive or expressive, yet only the 
occasional distinction of a sylable, and thereby of the whole 
word, or of several successive words, by one or more of the vari- 
ous forms and degrees of Time, Vocality, Force, Abruptness, and 
Pitch. 

As this notable function represents the various states of mind, 
it is applied occasionally on the current of discourse; but it may 
be employed on solitary interjections, and on one or two words, 
forming an eliptical sentence. It will appear hereafter, that em- 
phasis is no more than a generic term, including specifications of 
the use of every mode of the voice, for enforcing thought and 
passion. 

The stated means of quantity and stress which constitute Ac- 
cent, being included among the enumerated causes of Emphatic 
distinction, it might be infered, that in these particulars, accent 
and emphasis cannot differ from each other. Quantity, radical 
stress, and the loud concrete, are the same in both cases; but 
their purpose and power in the latter, invest them with the attrac- 
tive influence of thought or expression. 

For a detailed account of the particular occasions requiring 
emphasis when restricted to the means of stress, the Reader is 
refered to libraries. They contain rhetorical, and critical works, 
setting-forth this part of elocution, with comprehensiveness, per- 
spicuity and taste. It is our aim, to point-out and to measure 
the vocal means of this important function. 

Emphasis produces its effect upon the ear, by means of the 
vocality, force, time, and abruptness of voice, and the varied in- 



406 THE EMPHASIS OF YOCALITY. 

tervals of intonation. The particular enumeration of these means 
will be given under the following heads. 



Of the Emphasis of Vocality. 

The different forms of the mode of Vocality were enumerated 
in the ninth section. They are variously, thoughtive or expres- 
sive, and some of them strongly affect the ear. Besides their use 
in the general current of speech, they may be occasionally applied 
as emphasis on single words. I do not say, we are to include 
under this head, those questionable cases of what may be called, 
the Phonology of Style, in which sound is said to be 'an echo to 
the sense.' The Reader may, on this point, consult Mr. Sheridan, 
and other writers 3 and judge for himself, how far any individual 
sound of the alphabetic elements, may be considered as vocality, 
and applied as emphasis. The following line from Milton's Ly- 
cidas, is said to be an example of this kind of expression. 

Their lean and flashy songs, 
Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw. 

If the r, here repeated, be roughened by vibration of the tongue, 
it may be thought to represent vocally the harshness of the Shep- 
herd's pipe; but to me, the expression, if expression at all, would 
be lost in its affectation. And generally, when cases of this kind 
do not consist in a resemblance of the sound of the word to the 
sound signified, or in an influence of the thought or expression 
on the sound, they are often a false or a puerile figure of speech.* 

* Buzz, hiss, and a few others, may be identical in sound with what they ver- 
bally represent; but let not the Virgilian Scholar, impressed with the rythmus 
of that apologetic maxim, in Roman robbery, of beating down the Proud, ' de- 
bellare superbos,' be misled into the notion, that the mere sylabic sound of 
superb, is, in itself, an echo, as the poor metaphor calls it, to the thought of 
magnificence, or grandeur; for by the transposition of sylables, which cannot 
vary the expressive effect of the mere sound, we might have the superb percep- 
tion of a Royal Banquet, changed^ if we may make the disenchanting and un- 
seemly contrast^ to that of the homely table of Poverty, with nothing but its 
Herb Soup and the convenience of a pewter spoon. 



THE RADICAL EMPHASIS. 407 

The guttural vibration as a vocality, is expressive of scorn and 
execration. The falsette may be emphatic, in the scream of 
terror. 



Of the Emphasis of Force. 

Under the Time-honored, we cannot call it a Satisfactory Sys- 
tem of Elocution^ Force or Stress seems to have been regarded 
as the principal, and if we except the vague pretensions of ancient 
Accent and of modern Inflection, as the only means of emphatic 
distinction. Our system ascribes to it an influential but not an 
overbearing agency among the Modes of the voice. In the first 
section, Abruptness is described as a peculiar function, and al- 
though apparently a form of Force, is classed as a separate Mode. 
The influence however, of its character and occasion is limited; 
for it has no varied forms, and only a difference in degree. It 
might be arranged apart, and termed, the Abrupt-radical stress ; 
as at the opening alone of the concrete^ its effect as a peculiar 
function, and an independent Mode of speech is recognized. Still 
as the Radical stress bears a congenial, or at least a classified 
relationship to the use of force on other parts of the concrete, I 
have thought, with this prefatory remarkj the term abrupt stress, 
even under its claims to a separate arrangement, might here be 
included within the subject of Radical Emphasis. 



Of the Radical Emphasis. 

When an immutable sylable bears the accent, in a word re- 
markable by thought, passion, or antithesis^ the audible distinc- 
tion can be made only in three ways; by vocality; a wide radical 
change in the phrase of melody ; and an abrupt enforcement of 
the radical stress. The two former will be noticed in their proper 
places. The last is here ilustrated. 



408 THE RADICAL EMPHASIS. 

And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 
Though inaccessible, his fatal throne; 
Which, if not victory, is yet revenge. 

If the strongly contrasted meaning of the word victory, is not 
represented by guttural vibration, by aspiration, or some other 
available vocality; or by a change of radical pitch upward or 
downward through the skip of a third, fifth, or octave, the syl- 
able vie must be raised into importance by means of the abrupt 
radical stress : at least no other form can be effective while the 
sylable is limited to its usual or conventional quantity. 

Let us not pass unnoticed the impressive succession of sylabic 
quantity and pause in this closing line; a rythmus, though pro- 
saic, yet remarkable for the skilful comparison of the rapid time, 
and abruptness of vie, with the long-drawn and gliding voice on 
venge; the rest between the contrasted clauses, gradually pre- 
paring the ear, for repose on the indefinite quantity of the termi- 
native cadence. 

It is true, even an immutable sylable may be carried rapidly 
through any interval of the scale ; still this rapid movement 
when not joined with the radical change, is of no emphatic 
importance. 

Although the radical emphasis is here allotted to immutable 
sylables, it may be laid also on those of indefinite time. But 
these admitting of more agreeable forms, derived from quantity 
and intonation, they less frequently require the strong explosion 
of the radical. 

This emphasis is the sign of anger, positive affirmation, com- 
mand, and energetic mental states of all kinds. It is also the 
common means of enforcement, whatever the time of the sylable, 
when discourse requires a rapid utterance. 



THE MEDIAN EMPHASIS. 409 



Of the Median Emphasis. 

The prominent display of the thought or expression of a word, 
by a gradual increase and subsequent diminution of voice, can be 
effected only on sylables of indefinite time. It has an importance 
equal to that of the radical stress, under a form of greater smooth- 
ness, dignity and grace. In the following sentence, the word sole 
conveys the mental state of warm and serious admiration, which 
this emphasis finely expresses. 

Wonder not, sov'reign Mistress, if perhaps 
Thou canst, who art sole wonder! 

Though the median stress might possibly be executed on the 
simple rise and fall of the fifth, and octave, when slowly pro- 
longed, yet it is more frequently, and more effectively made on 
the wave. In the present case, the emphatic intonation of the 
word sole is through the equal wave of the second or third; the 
swell being at the junction of its two constituents. 

The Header must observe, that in assigning the form of stress 
in this, and the preceding examples, I have been governed by 
the principles of speech, laid down in this volume; and that I 
shall continue to apply them, in ilustrating the other forms of 
emphasis, included under this section; for if these examples be 
read in any of those various ways, resulting from vulgar attempts 
in elocution, or from scholastic authority^ my meaning will not, 
in all probability, be receved. According to our rule, the lines 
above quoted should have a plain but deeply admirative character, 
on the long quantities of its diatonic melody; giving to the em- 
phatic word the importance of greater time, either in the wave of 
the second, or third, or even fifth, and smoothly impressing it by 
the swell of the median stress. It is not within our present pur- 
posej but it might be added, that thou should have the wave of 
the second or third, to connect it both by quantity and intona- 
tion, under the emphatic tie, with sole; and that canst should be 
set at a ditone above thou, to assist the emphatic tie, in carrying 
21 



410 THE VANISHING EMPHASIS. 

on the voice, and with it, the meaning of the line. The intonation 
here proposed, may be taken as an example of the reverentive or 
admirative style. 



Of the Vanishing Emphasis. 

This form of stress is characterized by a degree of force, 
nearly equal to that of the radical emphasis. Why then are 
they distinguished from each other by name? The radical is 
appropriate to immutable sylables; the vanishing cannot be re- 
cognized on them, as it requires some extent of quantity; and 
though the hasty energy that prompts it, generally assigns it to 
a simple concrete, with just sufficient time for its execution, still 
it is sometimes effectively made on a prolonged quantity, and on 
the wave. 

In the following examples, this inversion of the simple form of 
the concrete may be employed for the expression of angry im- 
patience in one case, and of threatening vengeance in the other. 

Oh ye Gods! ye Gods! must I endure all this! 



Oh! that I had him, 
With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe. 
To use my lawful sword. 

The words here marked in italics, when pronounced with the 
vanishing stress, have that Irish provincialism which characterizes 
in a degree, this species of force; the final abrupt element in 
these cases contributing to the effect, by its occlusion. 

The vanishing stress is often used for an energetic, a peevish, 
or an angry question: in this way, the extent of the interroga- 
tive interval, with its emphatic boundary, is more forcibly im- 
pressed on the ear. 

A cause of the peculiar expression of the vanishing emphasis, 
may be this. From the ordinary habit of the voice in the simple 
concrete, it is difficult to produce a final fulness and force, with- 



THE COMPOUND EMPHASIS. 411 

out giving rapidity of time to its execution: and this adapts it to 
the active state of mind represented by the vanishing stress. But 
we leave the remark to the observation and reflection of others. 



Of the Compound Emphasis. 

A degree of emphatic distinction by force, stronger than that 
of the preceding forms, may be applied to sylables of indefinite 
time; for these, under the direction of a vehement state of mind, 
may receve their force from a union of both the radical and 
vanishing stress ; as in the following urgent call. 

Arm, warriors, arm for fight; the foe at hand, 
Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit 
This day. 

The imperative words here marked in italics, may receve this 
double form of stress, either on a wide downward interval, or on 
an unequal-direct wave, with a wide downward constituent. The 
vanishing stress being here, on the subtonic m, requires more 
effort to produce its fulness, than when the final element is abrupt. 
The compound stress is however, more particularly appropriate to 
the forcible emphasis of an interrogation: and I here cite an ex- 
ample, from the scene of Hamlet's violence towards Laertes, at 
the grave of Ophelia. 

Dost thou come here to whine? 

To outface me by leaping in her grave ? 

The great earnestness of these questions, calls for the Thorough 
interrogative intonation; and the emphatic importance of the 
word whine, requires, or will admit the rising octave with the 
compound stress upon it. The radical abruptness on t, sets-forth 
the threatening rage of the Prince; and the vanishing stress on 
?*, conspicuously denotes the inquiry, by marking the extent of 
the interrogative interval. 



41l! THOROUGH EMPHASIS, AND THE LOUD CONCRETE. 

We do not here regard the aspiration, to be joined with the 
compound stress, for the expression of whatever contempt or 
scorn, the question may contain. 

It must be confessed however^ the discrimination of this species 
of emphasis, in the current of pronunciation, is not so easy, as 
that of the preceding. Still it is heard in the voice. Its effect 
is peculiar; and by deliberate analysis is clearly resolvable into 
the double form of stress. 



Of the Emphasis of the Thorough Stress, and the 
Loud Concrete, 

In detailing the assignable forms and degrees of force, those 
of the Thorough stress, and the Loud concrete, were described 
as different from the rest, and from each other. 

But I am not disposed to insist upon the importance of these 
distinctions, for the practical purposes of elocution. They exist 
however as forms of stress, and are perhaps used as emphatic 
signs of thought or expression. Yet they are not, either in char- 
acter or degree, when employed on short quantities, so distin- 
guishable from the radical, and the compound stress, and from 
each other, as to require special exemplification. The peculiarity 
of these forms of stress, is relative to the time of sylables; for 
when this is not so short as to require the radical stress, nor of 
sufficient length to admit of a prolonged application of force, the 
required distinction may be effected on such moderate quantities 
by the loud concrete, or the thorough stress, as in the marked 
sylables of the following example; where the first may receve the 
former, and the second, the latter species of emphasis. 

This knows my Punisher: therefore as far 
From granting he, as I from beggmg peace. 

On this subject, let it be kept in mind, that although the thor- 
ough stress may be applied, under the limitation of emphasis, to 
short, and occasionally to longer quantities; yet when unusually 



THE ASPIRATED EMPHASIS. 413 

extended, in a current melody, it has that rustic coarseness, 
described in the thirty-ninth section. 



Of the Aspirated Emphasis. 

The earnestness and other expressive effects of aspiration, may 
be spread over a whole sentence. The same expression is some- 
times restricted to a single word; constituting the aspirated em- 
phasis. Many words claim this emphasis from the essential energy 
of their meaning; and these, in some cases have the literal sym- 
bol of aspiration, as havoc, horror, huzza, A similar remark may 
be made on some of the interjections. I need not quote instances 
of aspirated utterance in the exclamations of passion, and in the 
pure breathing of a sigh; the pages of the drama are full of 
examples. 

In the following dialogue from Julius Csesar, the effect of 
aspiration in marking an earnest state of mind, is sufficiently ob- 
vious on the words ay, and fear, set in italics. 

Brutus. What means this shouting ? I do fear the people 

Choose Caesar for their king. 
Gassius. Ay, do you fear it ? 

Then must I think you would not have it so. 

And again, in the Tent scene, the earnest repugnance of Cassius 
is manifested by an aspiration on the word chastisement. 

Brutus. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, 

And chastisement does therefore hide his head. 
Cassius. Chas tis em ent ? 

When aspiration is combined with the vanishing stress on a 
simple concrete, or on the various forms of the wave, it conveys 
an expression of sneer, or contempt, or scorn. 

Aspiration may be applied to sylables of every variety of time, 
to all forms of force, and all intervals of intonation. 



414 THE EMPHATIC VOCULE. THE GUTTURAL EMPHASIS. 



Of the Emphatic Vocule. 

When a word emphatic by force, terminates with an abrupt 
element, followed by a pause, that slight issue of sound called 
the Vocule, generally receves a continuation of the force; and 
this, by its explosive effort, becomes the sign of passionative 
excitement. 

On some occasions, this vocule may be used, with a view to 
press into a sylable all the power of emphasis. But it comes so 
close to affectation, that I hesitated about its classification, as a 
fault, or as an assistant enforcement of speech. 

I will not say absolutely, it should be forcibly employed in the 
following linej from the close of the third scene, in the third act 
of Othello: but when the word hate, is pronounced with the stress 
required by the passionative state of the Moor, the emphatic 
vocule almost necessarily bursts from the t, in the organic open- 
ing of the atonic abrupt element. 

Yield up, love, thy crown, and hearted throne, 
To tyrannous hate! swell, bosom, with thy fraught. 



Of the Guttural JEmphasis. 

The excited mental states of disgust, aversion, execration, and 
horror, give their expression to an emphatic word, by joining the 
guttural vibration to other means of vocal distinction. It is heard 
on the daily occasions for revolting interjectives; and sometimes 
on the common current of sylabic utterance. It might be prop- 
erly used on the word detestable, in the following lines, from that 
dreadful malediction upon Athens^ at the opening of the fourth 
act of Shakspeare's Timon; taking care to accent the second 
sylable, which does not bear a stress, in the measure of the line. 

Nothing I'll bear from thee 
But nakedness, thou detestable town! 



THE TEMPORAL EMPHASIS. 415 

When this guttural vibration is combined with the highest 
powers of stress and aspiration, it produces the most impulsive 
blast of speech. 



Of the Temporal Emphasis. 

When the quantity of an emphatic sylable is long, and admits 
of indefinite extension^ when the word has only an antithetic, or 
a thoughtive meaning, without the force of passionj or when the 
distinction has the sole purpose of an emphatic tiej the impres- 
sion may be made by the influence of time alone, as on co, in the 
following address. 

Hail holy Light, offspring of Heaven first-born, 
Or of the Eternal, coeternal beam, 
May I express thee unblamed? 

Or more conspicuously, in Abdiel's warning to Satan. 

For soon expect to feel, 
His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. 
Then, who created thee lamenting learn, 
When who can ^recreate thee thou shalt know. 

In this constelation of temporal emphases, the impressive long 
quantity of the accented sylable of thunder, and of devouring, is 
given as an instance of the emphatic tie ; in which the relation of 
two subjects separated by a clause, is shown in its true vocal syn- 
tax ; and by which any ludicrous image, from too ready a verbal 
connection between head and devouring fire, may be obviated. 
Perhaps it will be saidj these words, together with the others 
marked in italics as emphatic by quantity alone, might receve 
the additional distinction of a forceful, or of an intonated em- 
phasis. But it may be learned from the speech at large, that 
Abdiel is no longer the 'fervent angel' contending with the apos- 
tate. He is now the herald of an Almighty Decree. The earn- 
est persuasion, with the alternate hopes and fears of argument, 
has given place to thoughtive admonitions, and to the solemn 



416 THE EMPHASIS OF PITCH. 

declarations of retributive justice; and the unimpassioned but 
conspicuous distinction by temporal emphasis appears well accom- 
modated to the utterance of the 'unmoved, unshaken, unseduced, 
unterrified,' and prophetic Seraph. 

The Reader must have observed the close connection between 
the various vocal constituents ; and that with every attempt, it is 
impossible to represent each separately, in the necessary ilustra- 
tions. We here speak of the simple extension of quantity as the 
means of emphasis, when in reality that quantity is in part effec- 
tive, through the influence of some form of intonation. Extended 
time on interrogative sylablesj on those of positiveness and com- 
mand, or of a feeble cadencej has an intonation, respectively, 
through the simple course of the upward or downward third, 
fifth, or octave. But in plain temporal emphasis, like that of 
the above examples, and in a dignified diatonic melody, an ex- 
tension of indefinite sylables is always through the direct or 
inverted wave of the unimpassioned second. 



Of the Emphasis of Pitch. 

It was stated generally, in speaking of the pitch of the voice, 
that its several forms are used as the means of emphasis. We 
should now procede to the ilustration of this subject; but as the 
rising third, fifth, and octave are signs of interrogation, and as 
they have this character even when applied to a single word of 
a sentence, we may inquire^ how the Interrogative effect in dis- 
course is to be distinguished from the Emphatic. There must 
be even to the common ear, something like an unwritten rule, to 
which reference is instinctively made; for notwithstanding the 
frequent employment of these signs in their different meanings, 
these meanings are rarely confounded. Yet our discriminations 
on this subject have in time past been fourfooted instincts; let us 
try to ennoble them, by giving them the support and the exalted 
step of knowledge and principles. 

The various interrogative sentences were named in the seven- 



THE EMPHASIS OF PITCH. 417 

teenth section; and on that division, the discriminations are 
here made. 

In the first case. As the emphatic use of pitch is on a single 
word, or at most on two or three, there is no liability to mistake 
emphasis, for declarative questions with the thorough intonation. 
In the second. It was shown, that the partial interrogative is 
generally applied to common, pronominal, and adverbial ques- 
tions. These, even with only a solitary third, or fifth, or octave, 
cannot possibly be confounded with cases of emphasis on these 
same intervals, in sentences without the grammatical structure of 
a question. How far it might be proper to consider a partial 
interrogation, made with a single interrogative interval, as con- 
joining the conditions of interrogation and of emphasis, thereby 
justifying the term Interrogative Emphasisj may be left for 
future inquiry and arrangement. In the third case. Many 
phrases having the form of a question, seem nevertheless to hang 
doubtfully between an interrogative and an assertive meaning. 
When such phrases can be fairly resolved into an interjective 
appeal, or a negative question, or one of belief* the positive state 
of mind generally calls for an intonation in the downward con- 
crete, as shown in the thirty-second section. With these ques- 
tions emphasis by a rising interval cannot be confounded. The 
following examples are by editorial punctuation marked as ques- 
tions; but the conditions above stated seem to apply so clearly to 
them, that I would exclude the interrogative intervals, and express 
these virtual affirmations by a positive downward intonation. 

Cassius. What should be in that Csesar? 

Why should that name he sounded more than yours? 



Casca. What night is this? 

Cassius. A very pleasing night to honest men. 
Casca. Who ever knew the heavens menace so ? 



Shylock. Ay, his breast: 

So says the bond; Doth it not, noble judge? 
Xearest his heart, those are the very words. 

In the first of these instances, Cassius does positively mean, 



418 EMPHASIS OF THE RISING OCTAVE. 






There is nothing in Caesar, nor in his name. In the second, 
Casca would say, It is a dreadful night; the heavens were never 
known to menace so. And in the last, Shylock, by his negative 
question, does triumphantly declare, You know it, noble judge. 
If then instead of the positive, the interrogative intonation should 
be applied either thoroughly or in part, to these phrases, their 
meaning would be obscured, or lost. Consequently, no case of 
rising emphasis can be mistaken for such interrogative construc- 
tions. When figurative questionsj those of grammatical con- 
struction, with a downward intonationj and when real exclama- 
tory sentences, carry their expression on one or two downward 
intervals, it may be made a subject for future inquiry, whether 
this case might be called the Exclamatory Emphasis. 

We go on to enumerate the intervals of pitch, employed in 
emphasis. 



Of the Emphasis of the Rising Octave. 

The concrete rise of the Octave on a single sylable in a current 
diatonic melody, remarkably distinguishes it from others bearing 
the interval of a tone ; and its effect has the true character of 
emphasis, even without the excessive stress, heretofore considered 
almost the single essential, in the definition of that term. 

The Reader has been told more than oncej the intervals of the 
scale are appreciable, even in the momentary flight of an immuta- 
ble sylable; and that the expression of the octave on these syla- 
bles is generally effected by the skip of a radical, from the level of 
current speech to the hight of that interval above it. The em- 
phasis of the octave appears then, under the form both of Slow 
Concrete, and of Radical Change; and let it be remembered that 
one of these different forms of pitch is always implied, when we 
speak of the emphasis of other wider intervals of the scale. 

The rising octave is employed emphatically, for astonishment 
and admiration, embracing inquiry or doubt; and for the especial 
enforcing of one word above others, in an interrogative sentence: 
but this rarely; for there is a kind of mewl in its long-drawn 






EMPHASIS OF THE RISING OCTAVE. 419 

concrete, that excludes it from those elevated purposes of speech 
which it is the design of science to investigate, and of taste to 
approve. 

The octave sometimes expresses a quick, a taunting, or a mirth- 
ful interrogative; and is rarely used in a calm, serious, and dig- 
nified question. It would perhaps be admissible in the following 
sneering exultation of Shylock over Antonio. 

Monies is your suit. 
What should I say to you? should I not say? 
Hath a dog money? Is it possible 
A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? 

From the temper of the two last questions, they will bear a 
thorough interrogative intonation ; but the words dog, and cur, 
by an emphatic allusion to the previous rating of Shylock by 
Antonio, convey the exultation of revenge^ as well as an imme- 
diate antithesis to their former contemptuous application, by being 
run up to the keenness of the octave. Some readers might 
probably be disposed to set a more dignified form of intonation 
on these questions, by considering them as Appealing; and em- 
ploying a general current of downward thirds, with a downward 
octave on dog, and cur. I only say, they will bear the assigned 
intonation, without making preference the subject of argument; 
though the manifest sneer seems to claim the rising intervals. 
The readings proposed throughout this essay are for ilustration ; 
and their purpose may be fulfiled, although they may not ex- 
actly accord with common opinion. There is a best in the works 
of every art; but the latitude of admissible variation, within the 
reach of principles, makes an ample and a liberal grant, that 
sometimes generously admits even cases of unsuccessful search 
after the highest excelence. Over such failures, the inteligent 
critic of another age will be neither quarrelsome nor severe. 

The emphasis of the octave by a change of radical pitch, is 
exemplified in the following lines. 

'Zounds, show me what thou'lt do: 

Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself? 

The exasperated energy of Hamlet, in his encounter with 



420 EMPHASIS OF THE RISING FIFTH. 






Laertes, calls for the highest pitch of interrogation on the words 
here marked; but these words do not admit of the slow concrete. 
To fulfil the purposes of expression, they are to be immediately 
transfered by radical change to an octave above the word woo't, 
which in its several places, is at the common level of the melody. 
The emphatic sylable, when thus raised, is still further indued 
with the character of an interrogative interval, by the rapid 
flight of the concrete octave, described in .the seventeenth sec- 
tion. In the first seven words of the second line the voice does 
skip, alternately ascending and descending, between the extremes 
of an octave. 

While these lines are before us, we may notice the contrast 
between the two movements of pitch in the octave ; for the word 
tear, having an indefinite quantity, admits freely of the slow 
concrete; and the voice after being restrained to the discrete 
skip, on the preceding immutable sylables, more freely, and with 
graceful contrast assumes on this word, the intonation of a con- 
crete or continuous rise. 



Of the Emphasis of the Rising Fifth. 

The relation of the concrete fifth to the octave, in their inter- 
rogative character, was formerly shown. As a sign of emphatic 
thought or of passion, the fifth is less impressive than the octavej 
from not having its piercing influence. There is however, more 
dignity in the importance it gives to a sylable. In the following 
lines, from Satan's address to the sun, the emphasis on thee-m&y 
be made by the concrete rising fifth, for the expression of its 
exultation. 

Evil be thou my good: by thee at least 
Divided empire with Heaven's king I hold. 

It is said here, and we allow the same cautious latitude in other 
cases, that a certain form of emphatic expression may be em- 
ployed; for occasionally, the emphasis may be varied; as in the 
present example, thee might be in the wave of the fifth, or third, 



EMPHASIS OF THE RISING FIFTH. 421 

or even the second; in the last case however, a want of the ex- 
pressive effect of the fifth, must be supplied by a long quantity, 
and by the use of the radical, or median, or vanishing stress, on 
the wave of the second so employed. Nay, we will go further 
with the liberal construction allowed by every broad and self-con- 
fiding system; and under the principles of this Work, are ready 
to accord with the free-choice of any enlightened taste, which in 
the above example might prefer even the positive emphasis of a 
downward interval. And this, not inconsistently; for by the 
rules of a well ordered system, such variations will always be 
made according to the discretion that liberally allows them. 

In the following lines, the emphasis of the fifth on the word 
beauty, is perhaps not absolutely unchangeable; but it certainly 
produces a brightness of picture, well adapted to the admirative 
character, and which cannot perhaps be so well effected in any 
other way. 

Tears like the rain-drops may fall without measure, 
But rapture and beauty they cannot recall. 

The effect in this case will be more finished, if after the con- 
crete rise of the sylable beau, through the fifthj ty be discretely 
brought down to the line of the current melody. It may be 
added, that from the transposed order of sylabic quantity, a re- 
versed order of intonation may be set on rapture; for a discrete 
rising skip of the fifth may be made with rap, and a concrete 
return to the current melody on ture. 

The emphasis of the fifth, by a skip of radical pitch, is further 
exemplified in the line, formerly quoted to show the radical stress. 

Which, if not w'ctory, is yet revenge. 

Here the abrupt stress on vie, requires and receves assistance 
from intonation, by setting that short sylable at a discrete fifth 
above the place of not: for this gives expressive emphasis; and 
a downward return to the current melody on to, closes the line 
with the effect, though not with the full form, of a prepared 
cadence. 



422 EMPHASIS OF THE RISING THIRD. 



Of the Emphasis of the Rising Third. 

The striking intonation of the octave and the fifth is suited to 
the earnest interests and replications of coloquial speech, and to 
the forcible thoughts and passions of the drama. The rise of the 
third, though still denoting severally, both interrogation and em- 
phasis, produces a less intense, but a more dignified impression. 

The rise of the third may be set on the word he, in the follow- 
ing lines. 

Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? 
The infernal Serpent ; he it was, whose guile. 
Stirred up with envy and revenge. 

And we may add, that the words infernal serpent, being a posi- 
tive answer to the question, should have the downward intonation, 
both for contrast to the rising third, on /103 and for emphatic 
wonder at the revengeful guile of the seducer. 

Some phrases however are simply interrogative, and unaccom- 
panied by those states of mind usually producing the octave and 
the fifth. The emphatic distinction in these cases, is made with 
the moderately attractive influence of the third. 

Dost thou think Alexander looked 0' this fashion, 
i' the earth ? 

If in this example, Alexander, this fashion, and earth, be 
taken as emphatic, the distinction will be appropriately made by 
the third. Should the intonation on these words be in the wider 
interval of the fifth or octave, it would imply an eagerness of in- 
quiry, and a light familiarity of address, not embraced, by the 
meaning of the question, nor consistent with the temper of Ham- 
let's moralizing reflections. 

It is scarcely necessary to ilustrate the radical skip of the 
third, in relation to emphasis. The word victory, in a preceding 
example, may be executed on this discrete interval, if the Header 
should think the fifth, there employed, too wide; for it will ex- 
emplify either case, according to the degree of energy ascribed 
to it. 



EMPHASIS OF THE RISING SEMITONE. 423 

The third, as shown in the sixteenth section, is employed on 
the emphatic words of conditional, concessive, and hypothetical 
phrases. 

The minor third, together with the rest of the minor scale, is 
the essential means of plaintiveness in song; but it is not to be 
used in the system of speaking-intonation, set-forth in this Work; 
and this system regarding it as a fault in speech, we cannot give 
it a place, in the history of emphasis. 



Of the Emphasis of the Rising Semitone. 

I omit here, a notice of the tone or second. The Reader must 
now be too well acquainted with the character of the diatonic 
melody, not to perceve, that the simple rise of a second, having no 
attractive or peculiar expression, cannot, by pitch alone, be em- 
phatic. The more impressive intervals, when not compared among 
themselves, are emphatic only by their contrast with the thoughtive 
current of the second. It is true, a sylable is made emphatic by 
quantity; and that quantity in plain and dignified utterance, is 
commonly effected through the doubling of the second into the 
form of a wave. But the impressiveness is here an effect of time, 
not of intonation. 

As the semitone has a peculiar expression, it can fulfil the 
condition of emphasis, when laid upon a single word in the 
course of a diatonic melody. We have an instance of this, in 
the first line of Hamlet's soliloquy. 

0, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, 
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! 

These words are prompted by three different states of mind. 
0, that this solid flesh would melt, is wishful ; this too solid flesh, 
is declarative that it cannot change; and the second too, here 
taking-on the degree of an adjective, is plaintive under the re- 
peated declaration. In these states, Hamlet implores with be- 
coming seriousness, that his living frame may be dissolved; yet 



424 EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD CONCRETE. 

by the first adverb too, repeated more forcibly as an adjective, 
expresses his conviction of its impossibility. Under the hard fate 
of this conviction, he repeats the word too, with a pathetic de- 
spondency, which requires and beautifully sad, receves a slowly 
extended and slightly tremulous wave of the semitone. 

It rarely happens however, that this semitonic expression is 
found so insulated: for the plaintiveness which directs a single 
word, generally spreads its effect over the whole phrase or sen- 
tence ; constituting the chromatic melody, and thereby-destroying 
the solitary importance, or proper emphasis of the semitone. 

It will then be askedj how emphasis when required, can be 
effected in a chromatic melody. It may be by stress in its vari- 
ous forms ; and by time ; for the semitone is set on sylables of 
every quantity. It may likewise be effected by intonation, in the 
following manner. 

When a sylable calls for the emphasis of a wider pitch in a 
chromatic melody, it cannot- be a simple concrete rise or fall 
through the second, third, fifth, or eighth ; for these movements, 
by over-sliding the measure of a semitone, would destroy the 
plaintiveness, which by the conditions of the case should be heard. 
Yet, when a sylable of the chromatic melody is elevated by a 
discrete radical change, from the level of the current, to a third, 
fifth, or octave above it; and when thus raised, is there uttered 
however rapidly, through the interval of a semitone, the plaintive 
or chromatic character will be preserved; and as the sylable, by 
a transfer of the radical pitch, is advanced to a higher point of 
the scale, its semitone by the additional means of this acuteness 
in position is more forcibly impressed on the ear, and fully con- 
forms to the definition of emphasis. 



Of the Emphasis of the Downward Concrete. 

The downward movement of the voice expresses positiveness 
and surprise, and on a single long sylable, forms the feeble ca- 
dence. We are now to consider the manner of employing this 



EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD CONCRETE. 425 

concrete, for the purpose of emphasis, on one or more words, in a 
current melody. 

The wider downward concrete is a very common form of em- 
phatic distinction, and exerts a powerful attraction over the ear. 
It cannot however, be used in sentences of thorough interroga- 
tive intonation; nor is it, in its simple forms employed in the 
chromatic melody. When necessary in this latter case, for de- 
noting surprise or positiveness, it may be introduced as a con- 
stituent of the unequal wave; for the rise of a semitone as the 
first constituent, will preserve the plaintiveness; and a subse- 
quent continuation downward through the eighth, or fifth, or 
third, will join to this plaintiveness, the required emphasis of the 
falling concrete. 

When we had occasion in its proper place, to speak of the 
descent of the voice both by concrete and by radical pitch-* that 
descent was represented, as taking place, only from the line of 
the current melody. It is now necessary to describe the par- 
ticular manner of its movement in emphasis. In the twenty- 
second section, a notation is given of the following line. 

Seems, madam, nay, it is! I know not seems. 

In that notation, one of its emphatic sylables is marked with a 
downward fifth; the concrete appearing on the staff, with its 
radical the whole extent of that interval above the current 
melody. I then merely pointed out the peculiarity; not wish- 
ing, in that view of the downward concrete, to anticipate the 
history of its application to the especial subject of the present 
section. 

Should the word is, in the above line, be uttered as a feeble 
cadence, by the descent of a third from the line of the current 
melody, as if it were the close of a sentence, it would not have 
the impressive effect, required by the meaning. It cannot then, 
be a simple descent of the voice from the line of a current 
melody, which gives an emphatic character to this downward 
movement. 

The full effect of the concrete, in this case, is produced by 
commencing its radical, on a line of pitch above the current 
28 



42(> EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD CONCRETE. 

melody, and descending to that line or below it, according to the 
force of expression. The hight at which the outset or radical of 
the descending concrete is to be taken, depends on the degree of 
positiveness or surprise, designed in the emphasis. That the ex- 
pressive effect of the downward concrete procedes from its affinity 
in form with the cadence, I will not assert. There seems how- 
ever, to be something like an ultimate affirmation implied in a 
very positive emphasisj as if it meant, this affirmation is beyond 
doubt, then let the subject here be closed. 

It may perhaps be askedj why the downward vanish, emphat- 
ically used in the current melody, does not produce the effect of 
a cadence, and interrupt the continuous thought or expression of 
discourse. Let it be recolectedj the feeblest form of the cadence 
consists in the concrete descent through the third; consequently 
the downward emphasis can at* most, amount but to this feeble 
form. Again, the proper cadence is continued downward from 
the line of the current melody; whereas the emphatic downward 
concrete, begins on a degree of the scale above the line of the 
melody, and does not always descend below it. 

And further: speech has two means for conveying the mental 
states of thought and passion. One, by a conventional language, 
which to the ear, can describe them all. The other, by the vari- 
ous Modes and forms of the voice, that instinctively express many 
of these thoughts, and passions, when engrafted on words. A 
spoken cadence is denoted, both by the vocal sign, in its three 
descending radicals, with the final falling concrete; and by lan- 
guage describing the meaning of the words that terminate the 
sentence; for the intonation of the cadence, together with the 
meaning and structure of the phrase, and the pause, always 
marks the close. Consequently, an emphatic downward vanish 
in the course of the melody, can never be confounded with its 
termination. 

The downward emphasis by discrete radical pitch, has the same 
character as the downward concrete, and is employed for a skip 
on an immutable sylable. 

The cause of a downward emphasis taking its radical pitch, so 
far above the line of the current melody, must be obvious on con- 
sidering, that by a descent merely from the line of that current, 



EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD OCTAVE. 427 

the octave, the fifth, and perhaps the third would in some cases 
be inaudible^ and always too feeble for the demands of these 
impressive downward intervals. 



Of the Emphasis of the Downward Octave. 

After what has been said generally of the downward em- 
phasis, it is scarcely necessary to state, that the octave on a long 
sylable gives the strongest degree of this species of emphasis. 
The word hell, in the following lines, requires the octave. 

So frown'd the mighty combatants, that Hell 
Grew darker at their frown. 

This is taken from that fine picture of threatful hostility be- 
tween Satan and Death, in the second book of Paradise Lost. 
And whoever would give this part with a forcible and somewhat 
dramatic effect, will find it difficult to bring out the full meaning 
of the poet, except by the above directed intonation. The mean- 
ing, if we may interpret it, is not to represent simply, without 
marking its degree, an increase of darkness produced by the 
figurative gloom of the brows of the combatants. Such a picture 
would be too tame and trite for this dreadful edge of battle. 
The thought becomes worthy of the occasion, when the frowns 
are said to be able to blacken the deep darkness even of Hell. 
It is not to our purpose to remark here, that a strong downward 
emphasis on darker, completes the expressive meaning of the 
Poet. 

The above forcible intonation is produced by the concrete pitch 
of the downward octave: and as the downward concrete emphasis 
always commences at a higher pitch than that of the current 
melody, so with the downward emphasis on immutable sylables, 
the change of radical pitch is likewise from an assumed point 
above the current melody. This may be ilustrated by the follow- 
ing example from the second book of Milton. 



428 EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD OCTAVE. 

Far less abhor'd than these 
Vcx'd Sc3'lla, bathing in the sea that parts 
Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore. 

Others may please themselves, with their own vocal expression 
of this first line; I can satisfy my ear, only by a concrete rising 
octave denoting an exaggerated surprise, on far ; then a descent 
by the radical pitch of an octave, to less, for the emphatic expres- 
sion of the degree of abhorrence, on that comparative word, by 
returning to the level of the radical of far, in the line of the cur- 
rent melody. It is not the place, but I may remark, that ah is 
to be raised an octave by radical pitch; and hord returned by a 
downward concrete, of that same interval; thereby completing 
the forcible expression, by a falling and a rising discrete skip, on 
less and ah, between a rising and a falling concrete, on far and 
hord. 

A similar intonation is appropriate to the line that follows in 
the text of the poem. 

Nor uglier follow the night-hag. 

Here, nor rises by a concrete octave; ug descends discretely 
by that same interval ; li, from the expression not being so strong 
as in the preceding case, may either rise by the discrete third, or 
fifth, and then descend by its concrete, on er to the level of nor, 
in the current melody ; or Her, slurred as it were into one sylable, 
may receve the direct wave of one of these intervals. 

In these examples, nothing is said of the stress, or aspiration, 
necessary for the full vocal display of their expression. We here 
regard only the downward movement. 

If it may be asked;* why this emphasis of downward radical 
pitch has not the effect of a cadencial close; it may be answered^ 
it has somewhat the effect of a cadence; but it is still an imper- 
fect one, and not sufficient for a full termination of discourse. 
For the descent is from a point assumed above the current line, 
and its downward reach is to about the level of that line; whereas 
the true and final cadence is made by a descent of two radicals 
below the current melody. Add to this, the cause assigned in a 
preceding page, why the emphasis of the downward concrete is 



EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD FIFTH. 429 

not liable to be confounded with the cadence; as like it, the down- 
ward discrete emphasis is readily distinguishable from the cadence, 
by the words, and meaning, and pause, that denote the proper 
close. 



Of the Emphasis of the Downward Fifth. 

The similarity of this interval to the octave, the difference con- 
sisting in degree only, renders it unnecessary to do more, than 
quote a phrase in which the less energetic emphasis of the down- 
ward fifth may be employed. The word well, in the following 
lines, from that brief and beautiful address to the City of London, 
at the close of the third book of Cowper's Task, may receve the 
emphatic downward concrete of the fifth. 

Ten righteous would have saved a city once, 
And thou hast many righteous. Well for thee, 
That salt preserves thee; more corrupted else, 
And therefore more obnoxious at this hour, 
Than Sodom in her day had power to be, 
For whom God heard his Abraham plead in vain. 

The radical change of the downward fifth may be made on the 
word subject, in the following lines, from the first act of Julius 
Cwsar. In the second scene, Cassius after exciting Brutus to a 
proud declaration of his love of honor, continues^ 

I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 
As well as I do know your outward favor. 
Well, honor is the subject of my story. 

If this is. allowed to be the emphatic word, the meaning here 
conveyed, that honor is positively, the very matter he desires to 
speak of, must be expressed by a downward intonation on the 
word subject. But the accented sylable of this word is too short 
to bear the prolonged and slower concrete. The effect is there- 
fore to be accomplished through a discrete descent, by assuming 
the first sylable sub, at a fifth above the current melody, and re- 
turning to the line of that melody, on jeet, by the radical skip of 



430 EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD THIRD. 

a fifth. Some other form of emphasis on this word may, in a 
manner, mark a kind of apposition in the terms, honor and sub- 
ject; yet to an ear of discriminative taste, perhaps none will give 
so striking a picture of the identity, as the intonation, here pro- 
posed. 



Of the Emphasis of the Downward Third, 

The downward Third expresses a more moderate degree of the 
state of mind, conveyed by the octave, and fifth. In the follow- 
ing reply of Hamlet, the word Queen does not seem to require a 
stronger emphatic distinction, than that of a falling third. 

Queen. Have you forgot me? 

Ham. No, by the rood, not so: 

You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife. 

Here we may again notice the striking difference above refered 
to, in the effect of the downward third, when employed as a 
cadence, and as emphasis. In the former case, if the word Queen 
should descend concretely, from the line of the current melody to 
a third below it, the sentence might seem to be terminated at that 
point by the feeble cadence. In the latter, when this word skips 
to a third above the current line, and then descends concretely 
to that line, in the manner of emphasis, it does not even with a 
subsequent pause, produce the like effect of a close, but rather 
implies a continuation of the sentence. 

The emphasis of the downward radical change of the third, 
may be made by a transition from that to too, in the following 
phrase. 

Cassias. They shouted thrice; what was the last cry for? 
Caeca. Why, for that too. 

Of these last words that is to be taken a third above the line of 
the current melody; and too, at the level of its line. 

It was said formerly^ the prepared cadence is produced by the 
radical descent of a third below the current melody, on a short 



EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD THIRD. 431 

sylable, or by a descending concrete third, on a long one, preced- 
ing the triad. Still this descent alone is not terminative. For 
after descending through this discrete third, the last sylable does 
not necessarily end with the downward tone required at a close ; 
and it will be recolected, that even this downward discrete skip 
of a third was called a false cadence, from its not having the 
satisfactory effect of a period; and in the concrete preparation 
for the cadence, the descent of the third can have, at most, the 
effect of only a feeble cadence. Consider further^ the structure 
and meaning of the phraseology have a share of influence, in 
denoting the end of a sentence. This downward radical skip of 
the prepared cadence, has in part the effect of emphasis, by for- 
cibly impressing on the ear the most complete termination of 
discourse.* 



The downward Second, whether concrete or discrete, being a 
constituent of the diatonic melody, has no emphatic power. It 
gives variety to the current, by occasionally taking the place of 
the rising interval; and by its concrete on the last constituent of 
a falling tritone, makes the triad of the cadence. 



The downward Semitone has peculiarity, sufficient for a strong 
emphatic distinction: but I am not aware of its being ever intro- 
duced alone, into the diatonic melody; and in the chromatic, it 
serves only the purpose of variety, similar to that of the down- 
ward second in the diatonic current. 

* Let not the Reader, on this hint, unnecessarily multiply terms, and call this 
the Emphatic cadence, or the Cadencial emphasis. 



432 EMPHASIS OF THE WAVE. 



Of the Emphasis of the Wave. 

The junction of opposite concretes by its positive effect upon 
the ear, gives emphatic distinction to sylables and words. 

If a history of the voice should be written, from the practice 
of the mass of readers, and not from cultivated and rare exam- 
ples of excelence, it would be necessary to add a Melody of the 
Wave to that of the diatonic and chromatic; as many, and some 
of the world's great readers and actors too, apply the intonation 
of wider waves, to every long and emphatic sylable. This, to 
say the least of it as a fault, gives the impressive effect of the 
wave to a whole sentence, and prevents its employment as the 
means of emphasis on a single word. 

The wave, according to its form, expresses admiration, surprise, 
inquiry, mirthful wonder, sneer and scorn; and is emphatically 
used on long quantities, embracing these states of mind. 

The dignified diatonic melody is made by the wave of the 
second; and this is only a method of adding the gravity of its 
last constituent, the downward second, to the lighter effect of the 
previous ascent of that interval; and of producing at the same 
time the length of sylable, so essential to solemn utterance, with- 
out the risk of falling into the protracted note of song. But the 
wave of the second never performs the part of emphasis, by its 
intonation alone. Waves of wider intervals, to give time and 
dignity to utterance, double the concrete of which they are re- 
spectively composed, and have besides, a striking peculiarity 
when used for emphatic distinction, in the diatonic melody. 

Emphatic words of scorn in dignified discourse are denoted by 
the vanishing stress, or by aspiration, joined with either the sim- 
ple rise or fall of a wider concrete, or with the direct or inverted 
form of its single wave. For there is a degree of levity and 
familiarity in the double wave, unsuitable to dignity of style. 

In considering the emphasis of the wave, it is not my intention 
to ilustrate all its forms. If the Reader calls to mind our history 
of this expressive sign, he may be able to do it for himself: and 



EMPHASIS OF THE EQUAL WAVE. 433 

the varieties of the wave are so numerous as to prevent an entire 
enumeration of them. I shall name a few of its forms. 



Of the Emphasis of the Equal-single- direct Wave 
of the Octave. 

The Equal-single-direct wave of the octave actively expresses 
admiration and surprise; and when hightened by aspiration, the 
vanishing stress, or guttural grating, has the additional meaning 
of sneer and scorn. There is a difference in the effect of this 
sign on a low and on a higher pitch. In the latter case, it has 
more of the character of railery, or mirthful comment than of 
wonder, positiveness, or admiration. 

It was saidj the wave of the octave, restricted to the lower 
range of pitch, might be used in grave discourse. Under this 
view, the first sylable of the following well-known line, from 
Hamlet, might receve the emphasis of this expressive intonation. 

Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! 

This sentence embraces astonishment, and the purpose of in- 
vocation. The positiveness of the latter requires the downward 
movement; astonishment, which in this case, implies something 
of inquiry or doubt, assumes the upward. But the invocation 
appears to be the engrossing interest; and for their respective 
expression, the sylable, An should have the intonation of the 
direct wave; for this, by its rising interval gives the doubtful 
astonishment, and by its subsequent fall, the final and more pow- 
erful impression of the invocation. 

In the following notation of this exclamatory sentence, I have 
set the direct wave of the octave on the first sylable An, which 
on its indefinite quantity, beautifully receves it. On grace an 
emphatic radical skip is made to a fifth above the current melody, 
with a subsequent rapid concrete of the downward fifth ; for the 
time of this word will not bear the slow concrete of that interval. 
The other sylables have, in the diagram, the concrete, and the 



434 EMPHASIS OF THE EQUAL WAVE. 

radical pitch of a tone; and the Triad of the cadence, with a 
downward concrete to each constituent: yet for a full expression 
of the state of mind they may take-on, and perhaps, do require 
a radical transfer to the upper line, with a rapid concrete of some 
wider falling intervals, as we described this form of intonation, in 
the seventeenth section^ thereby to contribute their positive, but 
fainter influence, to that of the two emphatic words; the whole, 
with the exception of the rise on the first sylable, being expres- 
sive of the earnestness of the invocation.* 



An gels 


and 


min — is — ters 


of grace 


de — fend us! 


I 1 


1 * • « [....* 


J * 


t 


T <? T 


* 


7^ ~ 


v x 



* I may here refer to the gesture, appropriate to this exclamatory wave. In 
supposing the Enacting of this exclamation, I see the arms each in horror tossed 
up alike 'on end,' with palm and finger broadly spread-out in protective repul- 
sion. The practice of the Stage, after more than two hundred years' close study 
of the Part, does not accord with this view of it. What intonation is given to 
An, by great popular Actors, I have never, though closely listening, been able 
to trace: their belief, that such intonation cannot be taught, has kept them from 
hearing enough, to tell us. This sylable together with the whole line is, on the 
appearance of the Ghost, so suddenly shot-out, that the report is in-and-out of 
hearing in a moment. Astonishment and Invocation, on instinctive vocal in- 
terjections, are generally if not always, made on long quantity: and we see 
how admirably the word angels is used by the Poet, to give 'smoothness to the 
torrent' of exclamation on its emphatic sylable. But the Actor's violence and 
hurry seem to be directed by anger and impatience, enforced in the vehement 
trick of striking off his bonnet. If the bonnet is to drop by the agitation of 
horror, let the true personating of horror throw it off, not a dextrous manuver, 
when the hands should be fixed, or only trembling aghast. I would not here 
wish to insinuate, that the bonnet iscast off, to turn aside or confuse a scrutiny 
of the faults of intonation and gesture; for with that 'genius' and accomplish- 
ment, which the Great Actor is supposed to admire and affect; the admission of 
error, is immediately followed by an attempt to correct it; but certainly, nine- 
tentlis if not more, of what ought at that moment to be a listening Audience, 
are by forcible distraction, made to be only Spectators of a Cap-trap on the 
floor. 

After the date of our fourth edition, I saw an Actor, excelent in many points, 
quite carefully hand his cap to an attendant. Oh, worse still! We have now, 
time and quiet to muse upon the transfer: But, 'Zounds! how had he leisure,' 
to think upon it calmly then. 



EMPHASIS OF THE EQUAL WAVE. 435 

When the single-equal wave of the octave is inverted, the em- 
phasis has the character of interrogation, from the ascent of the 
last constituent. 



Of the Emphasis of the Equal-single-direct Wave 
of the Fifth. 

This form of the wave carries a less degree of affirmation, and 
surprise, than that of the octave ; as in the following example, 
from the contest between Satan and Death. 

And breath'st defiance here and scorn, 
Where I reign king? and to enrage the more, 
Thy king and lord! 

Whoever will read, with its proper dramatic effect, the whole 
scene in Milton's second book, from which these lines are taken, 
will findj the wave now under consideration may be set on the 
sylable thy, as a full expression of the positiveness, vaunting 
authority, and self-admiration, on the part of Death. 

To show the difference in character, between this direct wave 
and its inverted form, let the latter be substituted in the above 
reading. ' The interrogative effect produced by the ascent of its 
last constituent, will not only obscure the expression of the poet, 
but absolutely cross out his meaning; for it will seem to make 
Death insinuate a question, when he intends to be unanswerably 
affirmative. 

We need not give an example of the wave of the Third in its 
equal-single form. If we suppose a reduced degree of its ex- 
pressionj all that was said of the character of the wave of the 
fifth, both direct and inverted, may be ascribed to the wave of 
this interval. It is more commonly employed than the fifth. 



436 EMPHASIS OF THE UNEQUAL WAVE. 



Of the Emphasis of the Unequal-single Wave. 

It was said formerly; the unequal wave is used for the ex- 
pression of admiration and surprise, or of inquiry, according to 
its direct or its inverted course. With a wide variation of the 
relative extent of its constituents, and its union with aspiration, 
or vanishing stress, or guttural vibration, it becomes a forcible 
sign of scorn. The last word of the following contemptuous retort 
of Coriolanus, on the Volcian General who had called him a 
'boy of tears,' might perhaps be given as an instance of the 
ascent of a fifth, and the subsequent continuous descent of an 
octave. 

False hound! 
If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there 
That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I 
Fluttered your Voices in Corioli ; 
Alone I did it. Boy. 

It is not here the place, to notice the strong aspiration neces- 
sary to express the scornful state of the speaker. I have heard 
this sylable pronounced on the Stage, with the simple downward 
emphasis. But there is more cool wonder and self-satisfaction in 
this intonation, than belongs to the vexed pride of the Roman, 
and to his vehement retort of a charge of inconstancy, which he 
must have half-acknowledged to himself. 

In the following lines, from the contention between Brutus and 
Cassius, the word yea may bear a direct-unequal wave, consist- 
ing of the rise of a tone or third continued into the fall of a 
third or fifth. 

For, from this day forth, 
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, 
When you are waspish. 

If this word be given without aspiration, vanishing stress, or 
guttural vibration, the expression will perhaps scarcely differ 
from that of the equal wave. The sneer must therefore depend 
on a union of some one or more of these several vocal signs, with 
the simple utterance. 



EMPHASIS OF THE TREMOR. 437 

The intonation of complaint, on the word wrong, at its second 
place, in the following line, may be taken as an example of the 
emphasis of an unequal wave, with its first constituent, a semi- 
tone, and its second, a downward third or fifth, according to the 
force required by the plaintive appeal. 

You wrong me every way, you wrong me, Brutus. 

I do not give an ilustration of the double wave of wider in- 
tervals. Serious and elevated discourse can have all its pur- 
poses of thought and passion fulfiled without it; and it is not 
the design of this essay, to point out to children and drolls, the 
scientific mode of derisively imitating the surprise of their neigh- 
bors, by the curling mockery of this vulgar intonation. How far 
the double wave of the second may be employed, for temporal 
emphasis, I leave others to determine. 



There is little to be said, on what, in the forty-first section, we 
call the Time of the concrete, as a means of emphasis. Its varia- 
tions are really perceptible by strict attention; but they are so 
closely united with the forms of stress, that a separate considera- 
tion of them is unnecessary. 



Of the Emphasis of the Tremor. 

\ 
The tremor may be applied to a limited sV session of sylables, 

and in a manner, constitute small portions of a\ v mulous melody. 
We have here to consider its occasional application to one or two 
words, in the current of speech. 

The tremor on a single tonic, or subtonic element, in any in- 
terval except the semitone, is the sign of laughter; and conse- 
quently joins to the emphatic meaning of words, the expression 
of joy and admiration. 



438 EMPHASIS OF THE TREMOR. 

Thou art the ruins of the noblest man, 
That ever lived in the tide of times. 

There is a degree of dignified exultation, and a superlative 
compliment in this eulogy, that cannot be properly expressed by 
the simple movement of the concrete. The first sylable of the 
emphatic word noblest, uttered with the tremulous intonation of 
the wave of the third or second, on the subtonic n, as well as the 
tonic o, gives a vocal consummation to the earnestness of the 
admirative state of the speaker. 

The tremor of the semitone or its waves, on a single tonic 
element, constitutes the function of crying. In the chromatic 
melody, it gives a marked distinction to emphatic words of tender- 
ness, grief, supplication, and other related states of mind. 

The following lines from a dramatic part of Paradise .Lost, in 
the tenth bookj if read with the personal action of the dialogue, 
call for the highest coloring of the semitone, and of the tremulous 
movement. 

Forsake me not thus, Adam; witness, Heaven, 

What love sincere and reverence in my heart 

I hear thee, and unweeting have offended, 

Unhappily deceved; Thy suppliant, 

I beg, and clasp thy knees ; bereave me not, 

Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 

Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress, 

My only strength and stay. Forlorn of thee, 

Whither shall I betake me, where subsist? 

While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, 

Between us two let there be peace: both joining, 

As join'd in injuries, one enmity 

Against a foe by doom express assign'd us, 

That cruel serpent. On me exercise not 

Thy hatred for this misery befallen ; 

On me already lost, me than thyself 

More miserable ; Both have sinn'd; but thou 

Against God only; I against God and thee ; 

And to the place of judgment will return, 

There with my cries importune Heaven; that all 

The sentence, from thy head remov'd, may light 

On me, sole cause to thee of all this wo, 

Me, me only, just object of his ire. 

By the lines that follow in the Poem, Eve is said to have ' ended 
weeping,' and her supplication, to have been accompanied 'with 



RECAPITULATING VIEW OF EMPHASIS. 439 

tears that ceased not flowing.' Speech attended with tears always 
employs more or less tremor. Should the semitonic tremor how- 
ever, be applied throughout the whole of these lines, the effect 
would be monotonous, and the characteristic concrete of speech 
be lost in the agitated voice of crying. The mingled efficacy of 
these two forms of intonation may be appropriately shown, by 
using the tremor, only on selected emphatic words. It may be 
well however to remark, that the above lines are not entirely sub- 
servient to the manner of utterance here required; for some of 
the sylables embracing the deepest contrition, have not' sufficient 
quantity to allow the eminent intonation of the tremor. The 
word beg, and the accented sylable of uttermost are of this char- 
acter; and though they admit of the tremulous function to a slight 
degree, still their limited time does not fully satisfy the demand, 
for a free extension of the voice. The words hereave, on\j, for- 
lorn, thee and more, through their indefinite quantity, give ample 
measure to intonation. On these and others that might here be 
pointed-out, the tremor may be effectively set; the rest of the 
melody having the smooth concrete of the semitone. 



A Recapitulating View of Emphasis. 

Ox a close consideration of the foregoing subject, it will be dif- 
ficult to draw a definite line of separation between emphatic words 
and the rest of a current melody ; inasmuch as some of the fainter 
cases of emphasis may scarcely differ from the simply accentual 
and temporal distinction of sylables. 

To what case then is the term emphasis to be applied ? Not 
to that of one sylable, which differs in any measure of time, or 
degree of stress from another. For by this rule, we may con- 
sider half the words of language emphatic; as they are perpetually 
inter-varying by slight differences in force, and quantity. Still 
however, certain impressive forms of utterance always attract the 
attention of an auditory. Marked degrees of stress with abrupt- 



440 RECAPITULATING VIEW OF EMPHASIS. 

ness, extreme length in quantity, wide and impressive intervals of 
pitch, and a peculiar vocality, when set on certain words, are 
variously the constituents of emphasis. But under what mental 
state, these attractive signs, first become emphasise and at what 
point, in the respective gradations of stress and time, the empha- 
tic character excedes the common quantity and accent of the 
melody, cannot be assigned, and perhaps need not be known. 

Emphasis has, in the preceding parts of this section, been re- 
garded as thoughtive, interthoughtive, and passionative, through 
the agency of the five modes of the voice. 

Emphasis may likewise be considered in reference to other 
Purposes. These are: First; to raise one or more words above 
the vocal level of the rest of the sentence, without regard to their 
special expression, or antithesis. Second; to contrast certain 
words with each other, or to contradistinguish them. Third; to 
supply an elipsis, and thereby complete to the ear the grammati- 
cal construction. Fourth ; to mark the syntax, on occasions 
when it might be doubtful without the assistance of emphasis. 

Another view of this subject might be taken, under the divisions 
of the Parts of Speech. When emphasis is laid on the article, it 
contradistinguishes a subject as definite or indefinite, singular or 
plural. On a noun, it may either point out the relation of exist- 
ence, or of genus, species, and individual; or it may raise one 
substantive-thought above the rest of the sentence, without the 
immediate view of any special antithesis. On an adjective, the 
relations of attribute and degree. On pronouns, its distinctions 
are relative to gender, number, case, and person ; or it may indi- 
cate, as on the article, the definite character of a subject. On 
the verb, it may show the relationship of states of being, acting, 
and suffering, of time, and number; or distinguish without pal- 
pable antithesis. On the adverb, the distinction of time, place, 
negation, affirmation, and inference. On the preposition, the 
antithesis of motion, position, and cause. On conjunctions, the 
contrast of conjunctive and disjunctive relations, and of condition. 
On the interjection, emphasis serves only for passionative expres- 
sion, without embracing an antithesis. 

On the whole, whatever is the meaning of any part of speech, 
emphasis may not only raise it into importance, and distinguish 



RECAPITULATING VIEW OF EMPHASIS. 441 

it from some other meaning, but may likewise supply an elipsis, 
and point out the syntax. 

It has been saidj every case of emphasis includes contrast. 
This does not seem to be true of emphatic interjections; at least 
the antithesis is not obvious. And with regard to the cases in- 
cluded under the detail of other Parts of speech, the contrast in 
many instances is not at the moment, a subject of attention, even 
should an antithesis be embraced within the thought. Nor does 
it appear to be true of the Elipsis, and of the Punctuative, and 
the Emphatic tie. 

It is not within the range of my design, to ilustrate all the 
cases of emphasis, set-forth in the above survey of the parts of 
speech. I here exemplify the four general heads, of its Pur- 
poses. 

First. The distinction of one word above others, without the 
striking perception of antithesis, is here shown. 

But see! the angry victor hath recall'd 
His ministers of vengeance and pursuit, 
Back to the gates of Heaven. 

The first phrase contains an interjective emphasis; but I cannot 
conceve with what see is in contrast. Surely Satan, in drawing 
the attention of the eyes of Beelzebub, did not mean to signify^ 
he should not otherwise perceve the recall of the pursuit: and to 
suppose see to be in antithesis to his not having looked before, or 
to his having a contrasted interest with some previous purpose, is 
a mere refinement. The case is the same with most interjections, 
whether they are properly the simple tonic elements, or with 
greater latitude, any of the several parts of speech. 

Second. The marked antithesis is exemplified in the following 
lines : 

I yielded ; and from that time see 
How beauty is excell'd by manly grace, 
And wisdom which alone is truly fair. 

This is the most frequent form of emphasis. 

Third. The use of strong emphasis, in an eliptical sentence, is 
remarkable in the following example, from the first book of 
Milton. 
29 



442 RECAPITULATING VIEW OF EMPHASIS. 

Into what pit thou seest! 
From what hight fall'n! so much the stronger prov'd 
He with his thunder. 

Taking these lines as a complete construction, they are un- 
grammatical, and uninteligible. To one acquainted with the con- 
text, it is scarcely necessary to remark that the Poet meant to 
sayj See to what a dreadful pit we are doomed, consider from 
what an immeasurable hight we have been hurled, and learn 
thereby the degree of his superior power. Or again; as far as 
the horrors and the depth of this pit are removed from the bliss 
and hight of heaven, so far has the thunder of the Almighty sur- 
passed the strength of our colected arms. This full meaning can 
be clearly brought- out from the eliptical phraseology of the Poet, 
only by skilful emphatic intonation. If the word what, in its two 
places, limited as it is in quantity, be given with an emphasis of 
the rapid downward- octave, forcibly aspirated, and with a loud 
concrete; and if the succeding words within the notes of admi- 
ration, be also intonated with downward intervals, but of dimin- 
ished extent, it will vocally denote an astonishment at the 
precipitation and at the doom, not fully conveyed by the words 
alone. And further, if a cadence and a pause be made at falFn, 
and if so much be strongly emphatic, in any form that seems 
preferable^ the comparison of the degree of strength in the 
thunder, to the measure of the hight, will be obvious; and the 
whole thought and expression will come upon the ear, with that 
laconic eloquence, in which the admirers of the Poet will be ready 
to beleve, they were united and condensed, in the excursive and 
selecting circuit of his perception. 

Fourth. When the structure of a sentence is so much involved, 
as to produce a momentary hesitation in an audience, about its ' 
concord or government, the syntax may be rendered perspicuous 
by means of emphasis, as in this example: 

He stood, and call'd 
His legions, Angel forms, who lay entranc'd 
Thick as Autumnal leaves that strow the brooks 
In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades, 
High over-arch'd, imbower; or scattered sedge 
Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion arm'd 
Hath vexed the Iled-sea coast. 



' 'CAPITULATING VIEW OF EMPHASIS. 443 

If this passage were readj Thick as autumnal leaves in Val- 
lombrosa, or scatter d sedge afloat* the grammatical construction 
would be clear. But the chain of parenthetic specifications be- 
tween leaves and or, together with the picturesk allusion, and 
the beauty of its phraseology, makes us for a moment lose sight 
of that intended transition to another subject of ilustration, which 
should be immediate and perspicuous: the substitutive purpose of 
the conjunction or, not being at once apparent, the phrase scat- 
terd sedge, might at the instant, be prospectively taken as a 
nominative in some new course of the description. Should then, 
the phrase thick as autumnal leaves, be emphatically raised into 
memorable notice; and the succeding words, extending to the 
semicolon, be hurried yet becomingly, and with a somewhat 
monotonous course of melody^ a subsequent emphasis on scatter d 
sedge afloat, will at once refer the ear back to the last similar 
emphatic distinction of the voice, on autumnal leaves, and in- 
dicate, that the Angel forms lay likewise as thick as the scattered 
sedge afloat. 

This manner of denoting the syntax and the meaning was 
called, in the section on Grouping, the Emphatic tie ; and cer- 
tainly in the present case, it has no other object than to join 
these dissevered thoughts ; for a more direct and perspicuous 
arrangement would not require the emphatic distinction. And 
the same is true of the like emphatic use of the Punctuative 
reference. 



Having enumerated the various modes of time, vocality, force, 
abruptness, and intonation, by which certain words or sylables 
are strongly urged upon the ear, the Reader is prepared to re- 
ceve the term emphasis, with a wider definition than is usually 
given of it. 

Emphasis is a generic term for the extraordinary impressive- 
ness of the thoughtive, interthoughtive, and passionative meaning 
of words; these three species of impression being respectively 
produced by the varied uses of the several modes of the voice. 

From this view it appears, that Emphasis, and what we have 



444 RECAPITULATING VIEW OP EMPHASIS. 

called thouglitive and expressive speech, may be considered in 
most cases, as convertible generic terms: for emphatic words 
differ from such as are unemphatic, only through the use of 
those vocal signs which denote the mental states of thought and 
passion. 

The preceding analysis will enable us to display the whole com- 
pass of the art of reading, with some amplitude of plan and ac- 
curacy of delineation. Words may be considered as representing 
simple thought; an enforcing of thought; and as expressive of 
passion. The progress of the voice in speaking is called melody. 
The course of melody under the direction of simple thought, is 
through the interval of a tone in the radical succession, with a 
concrete rise of a tone from each of the radicals. But the 
portions of discourse representing simple thought are limited; 
thoughts are to be enforced, and passions to be expressed. The 
drift of the simple diatonic melody is therefore often interrupted, 
by an occurrence of longer quantity and of wider intervals of the 
scale, both in the concrete and discrete forms. It was shown, at 
the close of the sixteenth section, that besides the seven forms of 
radical pitch, called the phrases of melody, other radical succes- 
sions of wider intervals were by the requisitions of speech, in- 
troduced into the Current; and on the same principle which 
directed the construction of those phrases, we have the phrases 
of the third, fifth, and octave, both in the rising, and the falling 
succession. Having learned how these wider phrases are em- 
ployed, in the important purpose of emphasis, we may distinguish 
them by an appropriate term. And as we called those formed 
on the radical successions of the second^ the phrases of melody or 
the Diatonic Phrases, let us call those formed on the radical tran- 
sitions of wider intervals^ the Expressive Phrases, or Phrases of 
Emphasis. 

If the foregoing history has been sufficiently clear, the Reader 
may now be able to take a discriminative survey of that pre- 
arranged system of plain melody, and contrasted expression, 
which has been so long bearing its part in the course of human 
thought and passion, without an ear to measure^ and a tongue to 
name its well adjusted waysj or a voice, with a use of the percep- 
tive means, to fulfil its purposes: and if his mind is large and 



KECAPITULATING VIEW OF EMPHASIS. 445 

liberal enough to let in other thoughts than those of profit and 
fame, he may herein possess and contemplate at least the picture 
of a wise and beautiful ordination of Nature, if he cannot, am- 
bitiously offer it either for gain or applause. 

The exercise of an attentive ear, together with a resolute 
practice, will be necessary for the precise recognition and skilful 
employment of the various forms of vocal expression. But as 
all the constituents of speech are on occasions, at the command 
of every tongue, however erroneously they may be applied^ a full 
perception of the principles that should govern an educated and 
elegant use of these constituents may; even without the power 
properly to execute themj enable us to overlook the exercises of 
others, with the decisive commendation or censure of an inteligent 
criticism; and as in Painting, knowledge alone, without an ap- 
plication of the rules that direct an Artist, may authorize a con- 
clusion on the merit of his workj so, in the art of Reading, 
founded upon science, the silent application of its precepts may, 
without our being practical Elocutionists, equally authorize us to 
carry the steady arm of knowledge against the self-conflicting 
councils, and changeful orders of individual, 'or conventional ca- 
price; to hold-out against error with the strong defenses of a 
learned and cultivated taste; and to join the delightful but pass- 
ing perceptions of the ear, with the continued and busy pleasures 
of mental discrimination. 

When the Reader reviews the preceding history, he is re- 
quested to considerj its purpose has been to record the phenomena 
of speech, without a limitation of that purpose, to points readily 
conizable in ordinary utterance, or practically important in ora- 
torical instruction. As these phenomena were heard, so in strictest 
accordance, were they set-down; for there is in this Work, no 
Contribution to knowledge, which has not been drawn from Na- 
ture, by patient observation and experiment, conducted within 
the limits of that little space, between the Tongue and the Ear. 
Many parts of the detail will at once be recognized by the com- 
petent Reader; others will be afterwards receved into the grow- 
ing familiarity of his inquiry; whereas some of the descriptions 
even if admitted, will still be considered as refinements, beyond 
the reach of perception and of rule. As a physiologist, I have 



446 RECAPITULATING VIEW OF EMPHASIS. 

done no more than my duty, in this abundant record, however 
apparently useless some of its minute may be. Much of the 
accumulated wealth of science is not at interest; but the bor- 
rowers may one day come. It is readily granted, that some dis- 
tinctions in this history may be at present practically disregarded. 
The several forms of stress are described as palpably differing 
functions^ and they are so in speech ; yet I have not ventured to 
insist on the importance of the difference in all cases. So in 
describing the intervals of the scale, it wtis not designed to ex- 
clude the fourth, sixth and seventh, or intervals even beyond the 
octave, from the speaking voice. Nor is it to be supposed that 
some of the intervals of intonation may not on occasions, be used 
as substitutes for each other, without affecting the force or pre- 
cision of speech. I was also, far from ascribing particular ex- 
pressions to all the possible forms of the wave. 

In here opening the way for the change of Elocution, from an 
imitative Mannerism, with its inherent defects, to a directive 
Science, or rather, an Art Founded on Nature, with all its con- 
stituent usefulness and beauty, it was necessary to set-forth every 
function of the voice ; that the materials might be thereby fur- 
nished towards the future establishment of a system of instruc- 
tion, for those who have the rare aim in scholarshipj of seeking 
its higher accomplishments, through the abundant encompassing 
of principles, and the condensing economy of systematic means. 
That the investigation of this subject has produced much that will 
be imperceptible to the first scrutinies of the general ear, must be 
infered from the past history of human improvement. The mys- 
terious subject of the Speaking Voice has been at all times so 
despairingly considered beyond the reach of analytic perception, 
that the supposed impossibility alone, will perhaps raise a stronger 
opposition to the. claims of this Demonstrative Essay, than all the 
Author might despondingly have anticipated against his prospects, 
in undertaking this 'forlorn hope' of philosophic inquiry. Many 
who in fine organization of ear, a capability of delicate analysis, 
and a power of comprehensive survey, possess the means for suc- 
cessful investigation, will too probably, shrink from the labor of 
experiment, and seek to justify infirmity of resolution, by de- 
fensively assuming the hopelessness of trial. 



DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 447 



SECTION XLVIL 

Of the Drift of the Voice. 

He who has the rare gratification to hear a good reader, may 
perceve, that while his voice is adapted to the thought or expres- 
sion of individual wordsj there is a character in its continuous 
movement, through parts or the whole of his discourse; identical 
during the prevalence of that movement, and changing with its 
variations. Every one recognizes this difference in manner, be- 
tween a facetious description and a solemn invocation from the 
pulpit; between the vehement stress of angerj and the well known 
whining of complaint. It is to this continuation of any one kind 
of vocal current or style, whatever may be s its thought, or pas- 
sion, that I apply the term Drift of the voice : and which I briefly 
noticed in the sixth and eighth sections. 

This subject is not unnecessarily specified by a name, nor use- 
lessly offered to the studious attention of the Reader; for if a 
particular drift is required on a portion or on the whole of dis- 
coursej any marked change of its assumed and appropriate char- 
acter, will do equal violence to expression, and taste. The intro- 
duction of a tone or second, into the plaintive drift of the chro- 
matic melody, would no less offend against propriety of speech, 
than the errors of time in music, would shock the sensibility of 
an accurate ear. 

The importance of the subject of drift being admitted; let us 
consider-; Upon what it is founded ; and how many different styles 
it employs. 

Drift is founded on the various forms of the four modes of 
vocality, time, force, and intonation. These forms have been 
described individually, as representing thought and passion, for 
the occasional purpose of emphasis. We here consider the man- 
ner of applying them, and their peculiar effect, when continued 
through a part or the whole of the current melody. 

The question^ How many different characters drift may assume, 



448 DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 

is to be answered by ascertaining, which of the uses of vocality, 
force, time, and pitch, will bear a continuation; some not allow- 
ing undue repetition without producing a disagreeable monotony. 
In general, most of the forms of time, stress, and intonation, 
may as occasion requires, be severally a current melody, without 
violating propriety or taste; others can be employed only on a 
phrase or a solitary sylable, and therefore should not be made a 
drift in discourse. 

Although the character of a drift may pervade the whole sen- 
tence, yet the peculiar form of voice which produces it, is in some 
cases applied only to certain sylables. Though unaccented syl- 
ables cannot bear the prolonged time, required for the drift of 
dignity; still the dignity is spread over the whole sentence, by 
its long quantities alone. We here enumerate the various styles 
of drift. 

The Drift of the Second, or the Diatonic Drift. The diatonic, 
or as we otherwise call it the Thoughtive melody, is used for sim- 
ple narrative and description; and having no remarkable expres- 
sion, should be, under Nature's ordination, one of the most common 
forms of drift. The employment of expressive intervals, when 
not required, in the plain diatonic current, violates a leading law 
of fitness or decorum in speech. Let a gazette advertisement be 
read with the solemn drift of a long quantity, or in the plaintive 
style of the semitonej and all, at least of our New school of Cri- 
ticism, will acknowledge the improper application of time and 
intonation. 

In the usual course of the diatonic melody, perhaps the upward 
concretes predominate; the downward vanish of the second, being 
occasionally introduced for variety; yet when required by the 
gravity- of the subject, the use of this downward second may with- 
out monotony, constitute a drift. 

The Drift of the Semitone. Enough was said formerly on the 
subject of the chromatic melody; it exemplifies the present head. 
This form is spread throughout discourse of a plaintive, tender, 
and supplicating character. It was shown in its proper place, 
that every interval is practicable on every kind of quantity; the 
semitone therefore, in its drift, is heard on every sylable, however 
short; and even when unaccented. 



DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 449 

The Drift of the Downward Vanish. It was saidj the falling 
second is sometimes used as a drift. The downward third and 
even the fifth is occasionally heard in continuation. Their cur- 
rents express positiveness ; and an earnestness of conviction^ 
with resentment, when enforced by stress. The following indig- 
nant argument from the pleading of Volumnia, in Coriolanus, 
bears the slow concrete of the downward fifth on all its emphatic, 
with a rapid concrete of the same interval, on its other sylables. 

Come let us go : 
This fellow had a Volcian to his mother; 
His wife is in Corioli, and this child 
Like him by chance. 

A continued use of the downward intervals, is as we have 
learned, a form of drift in exclamatory sentences. 

The Drift of the Wave of the Second. This is used in contin- 
uation on long quantities, for occasions of solemn, deliberate, and 
dignified speech. I do not sayj this wave may not be applied to 
sylables of moderately extended timej and even rapidly executed 
on those we called mutable; but it is on long-drawn or indefinite 
quantities that its effect as a drift, becomes remarkable. With 
an occasional use of a wider wave, longer quantity, and the 
median stress, it constitutes the Reverentive or Admirative 
Drift. 

The Drift of the Wave of the Semitone. This is the most com- 
mon form of a pathetic drift : for the states of mind directing the 
chromatic melody, generally call for slow time and continued 
quantity. Under this, and the preceding head, both the direct 
and inverted form of these waves are used interchangeably, in 
their respective melodies. The rise and fall of the simple second, 
having no peculiar character, the variation if any, in the effect of 
the terminating-interval of its direct and of its inverted wave, 
may be disregarded. Whereas, the strong expression of the 
wider simple intervals produces a striking difference in the re- 
spective closing concrete of their direct, and of their inverted 
waves. 

The Drift of Quantity. Attractive characters of speech are 
formed on Time. In discourse expressive of gayety, mirth, 



450 DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 

anger, and other similar states, the utterance is quick; and this 
is generally combined with the simple concrete of the second, 
together with a radical or vanishing stress. The drift of long 
quantity on the wave, is employed in all solemn, plaintive, and 
dignified speech. 

We might make a threefold division of the temporal Drift, into 
that of quick, slow, and median time. 

The Drift of Force. Loudness and Softness, or with preferable 
co-relative terms, the Forte and the Piano, respectively heard in 
continuation, do impress the ear with their peculiarities; and the 
failure to fulfil the purpose of expression on either of these 
points, must be included among the faults of speech. Who will 
denyj that on some occasions the drift of comparative piano 
would be ridiculous; and others again, when that of forte would 
be disgusting bombast. 

The Drift of the Loud Concrete. This is only reading or speak- 
ing with more than usual force; it may therefore constitute a 
drift, and may be refered to the preceding head. 

The Drift of the Median Stress. This is necessarily connected 
with long quantity; and generally with that of the wave of the 
second and the semitone; for their prolonged time is always the 
sign of that dignity, which for the most graceful display, requires 
the median swell. 

These nine forms of drift do, by their continuation, impress a 
peculiar character on extended portions of discourse. 

Of the other expressive modes of the voice, none are allowable 
in that continuation which, according to our previous account of 
drift, would properly constitute it. Yet as the application of 
some of them extends beyond the limit of emphasis, they deserve 
a place next in order to the full or Thorough drifts. If the 
Reader is disposed to give them a name, they might be called 
Partial: and we havej 

The Partial Drift of the Tremor. The tremulous movement is 
proper only on short and occasional passages, of what might be 
called sylabic crying. But the tremulous expression, both in the 
plaintiveness of the semitone, and in the gayety and exultation 
of the second and of wider intervals, is too remarkable to be con- 
tinued through the current of discourse. For though drift is a 



DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 451 

kind of monotony, it is only disagreeable when unduly continued 
or improperly applied. 

The Partial Drift of Aspiration. States of mind requiring 
aspiration are like those of the preceding head, generally limited 
to temporary portions of melody. When so applied, the character 
of utterance justly entitles it to the name of partial drift. 

The Partial Drift of the Griittural Vibration. The use of this 
scornful form of expression is sometimes continued for more than 
the time, and the solitary occasions of emphasis: and thus produces 
a limited drift. 

The Partial Drift of Interrogation. The rising third, fifth, 
and octave are the interrogative intervals. Their use in partial 
interrogation, excedes so slightly the extent of their employment 
for emphasis, as scarcely to deserve the name of drift. In de- 
clarative, and other questions requiring the thorough intonation, 
the predominance of these impressive intervals, gives that peculiar 
character which the common ear at once perceves and compre- 
hends. Still, as questions are but portions of discourse, and as 
these wider intervals are never used in continuation for any other 
purpose, this form of drift must be considered as partial. 

The Partial Drift of the Phrases of 3Ielocly. The Monotone 
and the Alternate phrase are sometimes, severally used in con- 
tinuation, to an extent that might constitute a partial drift. In 
the twenty-ninth section, a peculiar character is respectively 
ascribed to these two phrases, when continuously employed. 

It may be a questionj How far vocality on a part or the 
whole of discourse, might constitute a drift. The fulness of the 
orotund may give a character of dignity, at once distinguishable 
from the meager huskiness and forceless efforts of uncultivated 
speech. 

These are the several drifts, respectively continued throughout 
discourse; or restricted to the partial limits of a sentence or a 
clause. 

Some of the constituents of vocal expression will not bear 
repetition ; and are therefore not admissible among the drifts. 

It was saidj interrogative sentences of the Thorough kind 
might be regarded as carrying a partial drift of the third, fifth, 
or octave. With the exception of this case, these ,wider rising 



452 DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 

intervals are never correctty used in continuation. The minor 
third, though a plaintive interval in crying and song, is in no way 
allowable as a drifts Nature, for some wise purpose, having ex- 
cluded this si £m from what she intended to be agreeable and 
effective speech. Its peculiarity will be shown when we treat of 
the faults of speakers. 

As a current of these wider simple intervals is forbidden in 
melody, so their combination into the wider waves cannot be 
extended beyond the limited place of emphasis. There is how- 
ever, a drift of this kind observable as a fault in readers; nay, 
some, in their ambitious efforts can command no other form of 
intonation. But the least cultivation of ear rejects the undue 
repetition of these florid constituents of speech. 

Of the stresses, none except the Median and the Loud con- 
crete are employed as a drift. The Radical would perhaps, be 
made a current style in a language of only emphatic and immuta- 
ble sylables; and some bad speakers, particularly Pleaders at 
the Bar, who think thus to hammer-in their argument^ do use 
this stress, as if their own had been so constructed; it is however 
too forcible to bear continued repetition, without offending the ear 
and thereby distracting the mind. The Vanishing and the Com- 
pound, are too remarkable as well as too violent, to form a drift: 
and it need scarcely be saidj the Emphatic vocule cannot be so 
used. As to the Thorough Stress; whenever it shall be generally 
employed as a boorish drift, on long quantities^ the peculiar music 
of speech, every oratorical grace, and the common social and 
wayside decencies of the tongue, will long before have left it. 

There is a point worthy of some attention, in the art of read- 
ing, and nearly related to the subject of this section. I mean 
that notable change of voice, required in the transition from one 
paragraph or division of discourse to another. It may be sup- 
posed, this is already included in the foregoing history of drift. 
Should there be a strong or peculiar expression in the new para- 
graph, it will be plainly distinguished by its proper character. 
Yet without seeing the page, we sometimes know that a reader is 
passing to a new subject, even when there is no striking alteration 
of style : and when the plain diatonic melody continues, after the 
transition. • 



DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 453 

The recognition in this case, is produced by several means. 
First. By the period preceding the change, being made with that 
most complete close, the prepared cadence; this indicates the 
termination of a preceding, and the transition to another subject. 
Second. By a pause, longer than that between sentences nearly 
related to each other. Third. By the succeding sentence or 
paragraph, beginning at a pitch above or below the line of the 
previous current. Fourth. By a striking effect from the phrases 
of melody, applied to the outset of a new topic. 

These vocal indications make the change of subject obvious, 
when a peculiar construction of the sentence immediately follow- 
ing the period, defers the development of its thought or expres- 
sion^ and renders it impossible to ascertain, by the few first words, 
whether the proximate sentences are immediately or remotely 
related to each other. 

From a review of this subject: it appears that many of the 
vocal signs may be continuously used as a drift, without produc- 
ing monotony; some admitting of repetition, only to a certain 
extent; others cannot be applied beyond the solitary place of 
emphasis. It appears too, by a beautiful fitness, and consistency, 
that when inadmissible as a drift, they have a very striking char- 
acter, and are reserved for only the occasional purposes of em- 
phatic distinction. From this cause, the downward eighth, with 
its impressive intonation, is never used in drift. The case is 
similar with the wider forms of the wave; and with the rising 
third, fifth, and octave, when not employed for interrogation. 

After what has been said, a little attention will show that sev- 
eral drifts may exist at once, in the same melody. A current of 
the second, of short time, and of loudness, may be united. In 
like manner we may have a combination of the drifts of the piano 
or the forte, with a wave of the second, a long quantity, and a 
median stress. The Reader can ascertain which of them may be 
combined, by knowing the compatible characteristics of the sev- 
eral means of expression; for they are united in every practicable 
way. 

It is not necessary to give extracts from authors, to ilustrate 
the various kinds of drift. With a knowledge of the modes of 
the voice, and their forms, together with the foregoing history of 



454 DRIFT OF .THE VOICE. 

their general and particular uses, further explanation is unneces- 
sary. For I am not less solicitous to limit the pages of this 
essay, than desirous to extend the measure of its instruction. 



We have spoken of the material of drift, variously consisting 
of the several modes of the voice. It may be otherwise regarded 
as directed by thought and passion, which respectively employ 
the forms, degrees and varieties of those modes. From this view, 
and from what we have learned in previous parts of this essay, it 
appearsj the modes of the voice may be generalized with every 
other voluntary and designed animal action; and shown to be 
like them, directed by a preceding mental condition. This being 
the entire process of the mind with vocal signs, it follows that the 
individual state of thought or passion, and its directive mental 
current or Drift, each produces respectively, its individual vocal 
sign, and its intended vocal current. Nor can there be good 
reading without it; for an appropriate mental drift is required to 
direct and sustain the varied character of utterance. A dignified 
current of unexcited thought, with its proper constituents under 
full command, and with sufficient practice, will always insure a 
just execution of the plain diatonic or thoughtive drift. A rev- 
erentive and admirative current will direct a still dispassionate, 
but more solemn and dignified utterance of its current sign. And 
in like manner, the mental current of the various passions will 
direct the proper vocal current for each. If then the mental 
current of the three several styles should be interrupted, there 
must be a change in the utterance: and we may percevej how a 
well-ordered state of mindj a full knowledge and command of 
the constituents of the voices an accurate ear, and an inteligent 
exercise of it, are four great essentials of correct and elegant 
speech. But we learned formerly^ there is no long continued 
current of these several states of mind, nor of their vocal signs; 
and that the different states, with their signs often interchange- 
ably displace each other. This does not however affect the ac- 
cordance between the mind and the voices the great essential of 



DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 455 

a true and effective elocution; for the vocal current changes with 
the state of mind, and speech is still consistent with its rule. 

From a proper physical investigation, this appears to be the 
universal means for effecting the united purposes of the mind 
and the voicej destined under the influence of education and 
taste, to supplant the delusions of that metaphysical ignorance, 
or knowledge of nothings through which every assuming Indi- 
vidual gropes among his own conceits, for the elocutionary In- 
tuition that may enable him to read with proper 'understanding 
and feeling;' but with its Legion of different Individualities, can 
never frame for itself a general rule of vocal expression; and 
that with the contentious temper of contradictory notions, can 
only set the Intuitive 'feeling and understanding' of one indi- 
vidual, against those of another. 

I will endeavor to ilustrate this subject of mental and vocal 
drift, by a familiar example. Let the Reader give an important 
direction to a servant. He will perceve in himself, an earnest 
and moderately imperative state of mind, the drift or current of 
which is not to be broken, except by explanation, or by a passing 
reflection. The vocal drift of this Direction is diatonic, with the 
downward third or fifth, on the accented sylables, according to 
the earnestness of the case. Under this vocal sign the direction 
will accord with the state of mind. And whenever we shall 
occupy ourselves on the state and action of our minds, with as 
much interest as we take in our selfish wants, and acts of folly 
and errorj that state and action will be as self-perceptible as the 
vocal sign which denotes it. We will apply this principle of the 
according mental and vocal drift, to the scene of Hamlet with the 
Player. 

Hamlet's part has three purposes: Directionj and as Shak- 
speare could not or never would write, without themj Comment, 
and Reflection. The direction is here distinguished by italics; 
the comment by curved, and the reflection by angular brackets. 
The purpose of the inclusive interlinear braces will be stated pre- 
sently. 

Ham. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly upon 
the tongue: (but if you mouth it, as nuiny of our players do, I Lad as lief the 
town-crier spoke my lines.) Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, 



450 DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 

thus; but use all gently: for in the very tempest, torrent, and as I may say, whirl- 
wind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it 
smoothness. [0, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated 
fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very 'rags, to split? the ears of the ground- 
lings; who for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb- 
show and noise: I would have such a fellow 'whipped, for o'erdoing 1 Terma- 
gant; it out-herods Herod:] Pray you avoid it. Be not too tame neither, but 
let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the 
action; with this special observance, that you overstep not the mddesty of Nature; 
(for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both 
at the first, and now, was and 'is^ to hold^as it were, the mirror up to Nature; 
to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own 'image, and x the very age and 
body of the 'time, his 1 form and pressure.) Now this overdone, or come tardy off, 
though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the censure 
of which one, must in your allowance, d'erweigh a whole theater of others. [0, there 
be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise and that highly, not 
to speak it profanely, that neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait 
of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought 
some of Nature's journeymen had made them, and not made them well^ they 
imitated humanity so abominably.] 

Player. I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us. 

Ham. 0, reform it altogether, and let those that play your clowns, speak no 
more than is set down for them: (for there be of them, that will themselves 
laugh j to set oi? some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though in 
the meantime, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered; 
that's villainous; and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.) 
Go make you ready. 

The mental and the vocal Drift for the Directive part of this 
Advice, was described under the preceding example of a strict 
order to a servant. The Comment being something explanatory, 
or ilustrative, or questionable^ and employing a different state of 
mind, is to be uttered with a less positive intonation. The Re- 
flective portion embracing the mental condition of disapprobation, 
or derision, or contempt, should receve the more forcible expres- 
sion of earnestness, and sneer. Aud both the Comment and Re- 
flection are to be given with a variety of upward and downward 
intervals, and waves; as the knowledge and the taste of the 
speaker, grounded on the philosophy of the voice, may direct. 

To ilustrate some of our principles of stress and intonation^ I 
have merely marked with the common accentual symbol, what 
appear to be emphatic words; but have not time to assign causes 
for the choice. At six places I have included under interlinear 
braces, certain words to be carried through their appointed, and 



DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 457 

still preserved pauses, on the phrase of the monotone. The pur- 
pose of this monotone is to unite upon the ear, the act with its 
cause or purpose: as in the first case^ the tearing to rags, is to 
split the ears of the groundlings; in the second, the cause of the 
ivhipping, is the overdoing of Termagant; in the third, fourth, 
and fifth, the purpose of playing, is severally to hold the mirror 
up to naturej to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own 
image, and the hody of the time, his form and pressure. In the 
sixth, the idle laugh j is to set- on idle spectators to laugh too. In 
this reading, it is the monotone bridging as it were the pauses, 
with its level reach of voice, that assists materially in connecting 
the cause and purpose with their object. There is an example of 
the emphatic tie on the words players, play, praise, that, and 
have* with a moderate flight, and abatement on intermediate 
clauses. The design of this grouping is to connect by vocal 
means, five words separated in the construction; thereby to bring 
to the foreground of perception, the player, his habit of bombastic 
action, and his unmerited praise. If in this instance, who were 
substituted for that* the chain of the emphatic tie would be 
stronger and brighter, from the greater stress practicable on its 
tonic element, and indefinite quality. The tie is also to be ap- 
plied to judicious, and ivhich one; to oerstep, and so; to end 
and hold and mirror. I would set a feeble cadence on ground- 
lings ; and a rising third on the laugh, that follows unskilful; a 
falling third on grieve; and a falling fifth on well, after made 
them. 

On the subject of mental drift, I would ask the Reader-* if he 
does not know when he is angry, or pleased, or sorrowful, as- 
tonished, or inquisitive ? For these are current states of mental 
drift, whichj if bad example has not confused or destroyed the 
original connection between the mind and the voicej will enable 
him to speak properly, under a general rule of Educated Na- 
ture, that Shakspeare here alludes to, but did not turn aside to 
explain. 

In practically regarding the comprehensive bearing of these 
masterly hints of advice, I might show it to be an exemplification 
of a passing thought^ that if generally, a player is, in his human 
30 



458 DRIFT OF THE VOICE. 

character, as obviously educated to bad reading, as the * sparks 
fly upwardj' Nature, by the instinct of her Dramatic Favorite, 
has shown, in his unusual endowment, how ' prone' she is to per- 
fection, by the indication of her laws of a true and expressive 
elocution, enfolded within these general but sagacious precepts. 
And must I draw attention to it? There is not, alas! throughout 
the whole lesson, except in the vague direction about action, an 
allusion to the important mode of Speaking-Intonation; which 
however^ from the Author's many metaphoric references to it, 
and from his fine musical ear$ must have strongly aifected him. 
Nor can we avoid infering, that in Shakspeare's day, the subject 
of 'the tones of the voice' with their only nomenclature of high 
and low, was supposed then, as this 'age of progress' regards it 
nowj to be beyond the reach of analysis, and consequently without 
a claim to be taught. And here the Great Philosopher-Poet, 
strangely unlike himself, in ceasing to observe and reflect^ went- 
alongj as Bacon the Great Poet-Philosopher did with his belief in 
a metaphysical Spiritj harnessed-in with the unthinking mind of 
the crowd. 

Enough has been urged in this volume, against the self-suffi- 
cient 'genius' of the Actor, and the 'natural manner,' of the old 
school of elocutionj to prevent what is here said, from encourag- 
ing a conceit, that with only an instinctive thought and passion, 
and a voice to utter them, we can spontaneously speak with pro- 
priety and taste: a notion altogether as vain, as that with the 
best instincts of virtue and sagacity, the great mass of us can, 
under the present narrow and conflicting systems of scholastic, 
moral, political, and religious education, ever hope to be wise, or 
happy or great. 






VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 459 



SECTION XLYIII. 

Of the Vocal Signs of Thought and Passion. 

In describing the various modes and forms of the voice, I 
endeavored, under their two most striking distinctions, severally 
to name and exemplify the Diatonic vocal-signs, denoting the 
simple state of mind, we called thoughts; and the Expressive 
signs of that active state, variously and vaguely termed in com- 
mon language, 'emotion, sentiment, feeling, and passion.' This 
should, to the extent it proposes, satisfy the Reader; for it de- 
scribes, in its own general way, all that to me at least, is audible 
and capable of measurement. But former systems of Elocution, 
having embraced a detailed enumeration of the passions, without 
however, possessing the means, and without perceving the neces- 
sity, of designating the special and appropriate voice for these 
various states of the mindj a like enumeration, classing the vocal 
sign respectively with the thought, and the passion, may perhaps 
be demanded here. 

There is a kind of hypocritical compliment always paid to 
originality, with this inconsistent purpose^ that mankind are eager 
to receve what is new, provided it is told in the old way. I can 
suppose a Reader who, after all that has been said on the states 
of mind, and their vocal signsj may through the habit of a 
scholastic method and a term, still look for a separate section 
on the 'Passions,' embracing the many unmeaning attempts to 
describe their expression. With an endeavor to change this 
habit, if a habit can be changed by any thing entirely different 
from itself* and to satisfy an expectation by an unexpected sub- 
stitute for its errorsj I offer in the present section, a more sys- 
tematic view and connected detail of the subject, and at the same 
time enlarge and further ilustrate our former account of the vocal 
signs of thought and passion. 

I had occasion in the introduction, to notice the limited degree 
of our knowledge, in some of the scholastic departments of Elocu- 



460 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

tion; and having, from the first, resigned myself to the authority 
of observation, have endeavored as far as possible, to adhere to 
an early resolution, to avoid that reference to old systems and 
opinions, which would lead to both controversy, and quotation: 
knowings there is within the limited pretensions of these depart- 
ments, much that is uninteligible, and more that is erroneous. 
We are now about to leave, for a moment, the definite and lumin- 
ous prototype of Nature, to contrast her lights, with the mys- 
terious shades of the opinions of men. 

No author, as it appears, has paid more attention to the subject 
of Inflection or the rise and fall of the voice, particularly in its 
practical application, than Mr. Walker. Indefinite as he is on 
this point, he excedes in specified rule, all that is said by Aris- 
totle, Cicero, Dionysius, Quinctilian, and the Older Musicians. It 
is true, Mr. Walker owes his superficial analysis to them; but in 
his knowledge of the purpose and use of Inflection^ infering from 
their recordsj he fairly * treads upon that Greek and Roman 
glory,' which national vanity first proclaimed, and the subsequent 
credulity of European scholarship was simple enough to magnify 
and repeat. 

Let us then hear what Mr. Walker says of the vocal repre- 
sentation of the passions. 

'It now remains,' observes this author,* 'to say something of 
the passions and emotions of the speaker. These are entirely 
independent on the modulation of the voice, though often con- 
founded with it ; for modulation relates only to speaking loudly 
or softly, in a high or in a low key, while the tones of the pas- 
sions or emotions mean only that quality of sound that indicates 
the feelings of the speaker without reference to the pitch, or 
loudness of the voice.' 

Again in the hundred and sixty-sixth page. 

'The truth is, the expression of passion or emotion consists in 
giving a distinct and specific quality to the sounds we use, rather 
than in increasing or diminishing their quantity, or in giving this 
quantity any local direction, upwards or downwards.' 

And again in another work.f 

* Elements of Elocution, page 308, Am. ed. 

f Observations on Greek and Latin quantity, appended to Walker's Key to 
the pronunciation of ancient proper names. 



VOCAL SIGNS OP THOUGHT AND PASSION. 461 

'As to the tones of the passions which are so many and so 
various, these in the opinion of one of the best judges in the 
kingdom, are qualities of sound occasioned by certain vibrations 
of the organs of speech, independent on high, low, loud, soft, 
quick, slow, forcible or feeble.''* 

It often happens with modern aspirants after some of m the 
sciences in the schools^ as it did with those who anciently under- 
went the mummery of admission to the mysteries of Eleusisj 
to hear themselves addressed in an incomprehensible language. 
What instruction, for instance, can be gathered from this defi- 
nition, if it strictly deserves the name? 'The tones of the 
passions mean only that quality of sound that indicates the feel- 
ings.' Here instead of an explanatory description of a thing, 
we are presented with a truism in a periphrase. For, as the 
terms 'passions' and 'feelings' must here be synonymous, as well 
as those of 'tone' and 'quality of sound,' the varied proposition 
may stand thus: 'the tones of the (or the tones which indicate 
the) passions, mean only the tones which indicate the passions:' 
or with less waste, thus ; ' the tones of the passions are the tones 
of the passions.' 

The second extract however, seems to contain a real distinction 
between the subject and the predicate: as by 'quality' the author 
may mean that mode of the voice, specified in this essay, by the 
termsj full, harsh, slender, natural, falsette, whisper and orotund; 
for these are the only existing forms of vocal sound, besides those 
which Mr. Walker has excluded from his definition. But if pitch, 
which is here meant by 'local direction,' be denied a place among 
the signs of passion^ what shall we say of the comprehensive class, 
including the pitch of the semitone, the rising intervals of inter- 
rogation, and the downward vanish that conspicuously marks the 
various degrees of surprise? And what is to be said of the effect 
of the different measures of time, and the various degrees of 
stress, if speaking 'loudly or softly,' and 'increasing or diminish- 
ing the quantity' of sound have no agency in the vocal repre- 
sentation of passion? 

* Let us here consider, that Mr. Walker's opinions have been, for the greater 
part of a century, and still are, the source from which nearly all the school- 
books on elocution have been drawn, in this Country, and throughout the British 
Dominions. 



46$ VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

The real motive of Mr. Walker, in excluding intonation, stress, 
and time, from among the signs of the passions, and in his as- 
signing the expression of speech to a certain unexplained cause 
called 'quality,' is clearly manifested in the last quotation; for 
here, this opinion, on the expressive power of his term quality-; 
as it is no more than a wordj is ascribed to 'one of the best 
judges in the kingdom.' After all then, this confused notion 
concerning the passions was adopted upon authority, by Mr. 
Walker; and this confession of his faith in others, certainly did 
not accord with his repeated claims to originality of observation. 
An original observer holding himself responsible for his report, 
cross-questions the testimony of his senses; the borrower of opin- 
ions is always less scrupulous^ as he himself never designs to stand 
security against the folly or mischief of his promulgations. 

What has been recorded in our previous history, may induce 
the Reader to smile at the above quotations; and enable him to 
perceve, that the vocal signs of the passions are no more than 
the every- day audible sounds of the manifest Modes, Forms, and 
degrees of Vocality, Time, Force, Abruptness, and Pitch; and 
that the greatar part of these signs are derived from those very 
causes, which are declared by Mr. Walker, to have no agency in 
impassioned utterance. With regard to the 'specific quality' 
here assumed as the vocal material of expression, it is not allow- 
able to suppose, the mode of voice called in this .essay, Vocality 
or Kind, is meant by Mr. Walker's term ; his account of 'quality ' 
being complicated with an attempt to derive its proximate cause, 
from some uninteligible system of 'vibrations.' 

Let the whole pass as an instance of that unnatural paternity 
in instruction, which, when asked for bread, dispenses nothing but 
a stone. And at the same time let it apologize for any apparently 
unbecoming expressions that may have dropped from my pen, 
when unavoidably brought into contact with those grosser errors 
of indolence or authority, whichj viewed along with the means, 
and pretensions of Magisterial as distinct from Natural Science^ 
seem to be almost unpardonable. 

In reconsidering the subject of Expression, under another 
view, it is not my intention to go into a dissertation on the 
passions, or to contend with authors about the scheme of their 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 463 

arrangement. I shall describe them with reference only to the 
purpose of the present section, without designing to regard their 
other relationships. 

In the sixth section, we described three different conditions of 
the States of Mind; and three forms of the vocal signs, that 
severally represent them: but here for a moment, classing the 
inter-thoughtive with the passionative, we regard the states of 
mind, under two divisions. To the division of Simple Thought, 
the interval of the second is allotted. To that of Passion, the 
numerous forms and varieties of the other intervals, and the im- 
pressive forms of vocality, time, abruptness, and force. These 
two divisions of the voicej the thoughtive, and the passionative, 
include the Natural signs, which instinctively denote their re- 
spective states of mind. 

But other means for denoting thought and passion being still 
required-* Artificial signs were devised. These artificial signs 
are words, conventionally formed to describe these same states of 
mind. 

To ilustrate the purpose and use of both these classes of signs, 
and to show their relation to each other, I will here briefly 
again present, under its two divisions, our former view of the 
states of mind, on which we founded the distinction of their vocal 
signs. 

The human mind is the place of representation of all the ex- 
istences, actions, and relationships of nature, within the limit of 
the senses. These representatives we call perceptions. Percep- 
tions are either the passive pictures of things; or they exist with 
an activity, capable of so affecting the physical organs, as to 
impel us to seek the object that produces them, or to avoid it. 
This active or vivid class of perceptions comprehends the pas- 
sions. The states of mind here described, exist then in different 
forms and degrees, from the simple unexcited thought, to the 
highest energy of passion; and the common but indefinite termsj 
'idea, sentiment, emotion, feeling, and passion' are the vague 
verbal-signs of these degrees and forms. Nor does there appear 
to be, where they interjoin, any line of classification, for dis- 
tinctly separating the mental conditions of thought and of pas- 
sion; as simple thoughts without changing their meaning, do 



464 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

from interest or other excitement often assume the degree and 
brightness of a passion. 

This being one of the many views to be taken of the states of 
mind, we pass to the consideration of the effects produced on the 
visible and vocal parts of the human frame, by those thoughts 
and passions. These effects have been called their signs, or 
physical expression. They are of many forms and places; and 
are severally marked by sound, feature, change of color, and 
variation of muscular action: but we are at present concerned 
only with vocal sound. 

The voice, as just stated, has then two distinct classes of signs: 
the Natural or vocal, if we may so distinguish it; and the Arti- 
ficial or Verbal. 

The Natural consist severally of vocality, time, force, abrupt- 
ness, and pitch. These have a two-fold agency; for they may 
be, and generally are joined with articulate words : but are some- 
times significant of the mind without them. In this latter state, 
they are the voice of infancy, before the period of complete articu- 
lation; are common to man and the sub-animals; and are used 
through life, both alone, and combined with the Artificial or 
verbal, to denote the animal passions of surprise, love, anger, 
fear, desire, search or inquiry, sorrow, affection, joy, pain, com- 
mand, and other states of mind that may be resolved into these. 

The Artificial signs or words are acquired after infancy. These 
may denote any and every state of mind, when joined with the 
Natural, or may describe those states, ivithout them. They are 
produced by the use of the articulative mechanism both on vo- 
cality and aspiration; and as descriptive signs, are more numer- 
ous than the natural. 

These are the two classes of oral signs, severally and jointly 
representing the different states of mind, in thought and passion. 
Some of these states are animal or instinctive, and have the 
natural signs. Others are the result of human inteligence, and 
the social relations, and have no such signs, as those ordained by 
Nature in her own original mental and vocal creations. The 
mind has natural or vocal signs for pain, surprise, and anger; 
but none of any definite character for hope, contentment, and 
gratitude. 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 465 

Here then are two essentially different means for representing 
the various states of mind; some of these 'thoughts, emotions, 
passions,' call them by what indefinite term we will, being de- 
noted by certain forms of stress, time, quality, and pitchj Nature's 
instinctive signs, in the voicej joined to a verbal or conventional 
language; others can be described only by a verbal or conven- 
tional language, which may not carry the natural or vocal-signs. 
We signify command by the downward fifth, or octave; complaint 
by the semitone; and the meaning of these intervals is the same 
in all nations, under any conventional sign. But it is not in our 
power, to express the states of gratitude, and irresolution, except 
we describe these states of mind, by appointed and arbitrary 
words, that may vary in every different language. 

Let us then, by terms, clearly distinguish these two classes of 
signs. When we denote thought and passion by Vocality, Time, 
Force, or Intonation, either with or without conventional words, 
we will call it, the Instinctive or Natural or Vocal sign. When 
we describe or indicate thought and passion by a sentence, a 
phrase, or a word, without the use of vocal signs, co-expressive 
with the words; we will call it, the Conventional or Artificial or 
Verbal sign. 

Although it appears we have not an instinctive or vocal sign 
for every state of mind ; yet every state of mind may be expressed 
by a conventional sign; for one can verbally, and in the plain 
diatonic melody, inform another, that he is astonished, and con- 
vey a knowledge of his being under that statej as certainly as he 
can by the most striking use of the downward octave, which is its 
natural sign. When astonishment is to be represented on a word 
or phrase, which does not describe it, it is necessary to employ its 
instinctive or natural sign. We have seen in the seventeenth 
section, that a question may be asked by a grammatical construc- 
tion alone, without the aid of intonation. But further, an inter- 
rogatory can be distinctly conveyed, merely by the verbal state- 
ment, that a question is asked: and this is often done in written 
discourse, without affixing the 'note' of interrogation. 

In consequence of there being Instinctive signs in the voice, to 
denote passion, and Artificial signs in language, to describe itj 
one instinctive sign can with the assistance of the artificial, repre- 



406 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

sent two or more passions or their degrees ; for although, of two 
phrases with the same vocal, but with a different verbal sign^ the 
vocal sign being the same, cannot in itself severally signify dif- 
ferent states of mind ; yet a specification, by the verbal terms, 
describes the difference, under the identical vocal form. Suppose, 
for instance, one should use the imperative phrase, be gone, with 
a forcible downward vanish of the octave; and again, with the 
same intonation, should say, well done; the difference between 
the two states of mind, in command, and in exclamatory appro- 
bation, would be distinctly represented respectively by the im- 
perative verb, and by the interjective phrase, notwithstanding 
their identical intonation. Thus too, the same semitone is used 
for the expression of pain, discontent, pity, grief, and contrition^ 
and yet in all these different cases, the states of mind are marked 
by the conventional language on which the semitone is employed. 
We are now prepared to take a general view of the subject before 
us ; which, to borrow a technicality from another art, may be 
called the Semiotica of Elocution; a term which as yet incompre- 
hensible, in its Intonative meaning at leastj is, by embracing the 
full and just adaptation of the voice to the mind, destined here- 
after to be receved as comprising the whole esthetic and practical 
philosophy of speech. 

To repeat the important distinction^ the Semiotic ways and 
means of Elocution, or the several signs of Thought and Passion, 
are^ First. Instinctive or Natural; consisting of the forms, de- 
grees, and varieties of the five modes of the voice. And Second. 
Artificial or verbal; having the descriptive power of conventional 
language. 

In the uses of discourse^ and we here return to our three- fold 
division-* natural signs, under one condition of the modes of the 
voice form the thoughtive narrative or diatonic Drift. Under 
another of moderate expressionj the reverentive or admirative. 
And under the use of all the expressive powers of vocality, time, 
force, abruptness and intonation, the vivid character of the pas- 
sionative. 

The Artificial have, in themselves, neither the character nor 
the voice of the natural; but can by words, universally describe 
their effects, and may represent thought and passion, equally 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 467 

with the natural signs. A union of the natural and the artificial 
gives the most exact and impressive vocal representation of the 
thoughtive, the inter-thoughtive, and the passionative purposes of 
the mind.* 

* The Verbal and the Vocal means for denoting the states of mind, are each 
so essential to the purposes of speech, that it is difficult to determine which is 
most significant of thought. and passion. The power of giving a different pas- 
sionative meaning to the same word, by a varied vocality, stress, time, or into- 
nation, would imply the vocal or instinctive signs, to be more effective than the 
verbal or conventional. But other facts lead us to conclude-j we are sometimes 
as much indebted to the descriptive agency of words, as to any expressive effi- 
cacy of the voice. 

It will hereafter be shown in the analysis of Song, that every function which 
we have ascribed to speech, is employed in its Elaborate style of execution; 
and though it is truej the semitone has a plaintive character, even if sung with- 
out words; still the rising and falling concretes of the third, fifth, and octave, 
when not set to words which describe the expression of these intervals in speech, 
are constantly heard in what are called songs of Agility, without denoting in- 
terrogation, positiveness, or surprise. In like manner, the various forms of 
stress which are properly expressive in sylabic utterance, seem to be almost 
without meaning in the inarticulate movements of song. 

A still more striking view of the power of conventional language, as the means 
of expression, when contrasted with the power of instinctive intonation, is dis- 
played in the voice of sub-animals, particularly that of birds. 

When a familiarity with our history will have given the means of discrimina- 
tion, it will be perceved that birds employ all the vocal signs of speech, without 
expressing surprise, interrogation, positiveness, and scorn, together with the 
repose of the cadence; which would be plainly conveyed by those signs, joined 
with words that describe these several mental states. The expression of plain- 
tiveness by the semitone, in the voice of the dove, and of pleasure by the tremor 
on other intervals, in the horse when snuffing his food, are indeed made without 
a verbal sign, and yet are identical with the display of similar states by the 
human voice. Still it must be recolected that laughter and crying, the analo- 
gies to these sub-animal expressions, are in speech, generally inarticulate, and 
are to be considered as merely instinctive animal signs, in man. 

It is then the union of an arbitrary Verbal designation of a state of mind with 
its natural or Vocal sign, that constitutes the true and essential means of ex- 
pression in speech. 

I must here beg the Reader to excuse a digression from our subject. In the 
course of this essay many analogies might have been shown between the human 
voice, and that of the sub-animal: but I designed to avoid mingling these two 
comparative subjects of natural history. 

Speech is a select aggregate of the vocal and articulative functions, dis- 
persedly exercised, by all animals: for there is scarcely a form of vocality, time, 
intonation, force, abruptness, and even of articulation, which is not common in 
severalty, to many of the sub-species, and to man. Man employs more of thes>e 



408 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

"We have learned that the means of expression are always 
applied in combination. There must be at least two conjoined, 

signs than any one species, but perhaps fewer than all; the principal difference 
consisting in his power over the structure and chain of the literal and sylabic 
function. 

Upon the ground of this identity, and with the assistance of an exact measure- 
ment, and definite nomenclature of the human voice, afforded by this essays 
What is (here to prevent the voices of animals being taken as one of the designations 
of species, in the systematic arrangement of Zoology? 

Naturalists have sometimes attempted this in a rude way, by a reference to 
alphabetic sounds, and to the modes of time and stress in words and phrases. 
When boys without the least attention to the difference of vocality in the cases, 
find a resemblance in the shrill summer-whistle of the American partridge, to 
the words 'bo-bob-white;' and think they pronounce the short repeated phrase 
of the 'whip-poor-will;' in its name, which some of the native Indians with 
closer imitation, call muc-ha-tvis; the similarity lies between the impression of 
the accentual stress and the time of utterance in the two cases; for the whistle 
and the phrase, as well as many mechanical noises, resemble, at the whim of 
the listener, any words with an equal number of sylable-like impulses, and the 
same condition of quantity and accent. 

Birds in the endowment of voice, have First; A single Chirp, including sev- 
erally, every variation of vocality, time, and force, with every form of intona- 
tion, from the feeblest effort in the simple interval, to movements of wider con- 
cretes and waves, in the cry, the shriek and scream; and in some cases, even 
the note of song. Second; A phrase, of two, three, or four constituents, sev- 
erally of every vocality, time, force, and every form of intonation. Third; A 
Medley, composed of a heterogeneous succession of chirps, and phrases. Fourth; 
A Melody, such as it is, of rapid concretes, of the singer's 'pure tone^' in 
'liquid,' smooth, and brilliant vocality^ of varied force, and intonation; but 
without bar, cadence, or key. This melody is distinguished by its continuous 
course of greater or less duration, without the disjointed interruptions that 
occur in the medley. Some birds; I omit their systematic namt 1 ^ have only 
the chirp; as our sparrow, king-bird, swalloAV, the woodpecker tribe, the blue- 
jay, and various hawks. Others, as our yellow-bird, robin, red-bird, partridge, 
blue-bird and whipperwill, have the chirp and phrase. Others again, the chirp 
and melody, as our thrush, cat-bird, wren, and perhaps the oriole, meadow- 
lark, and black-bird. The mocking-bird, and the canary, have the chirp, and 
the medley, as a remarkable case: and a few others properly called singing 
birds; but of which I cannot, speak from observation; may have the chirp, the 
phrase and the melody, under the most agreeable character. 

The exact and broad observer; for the peering Naturalists do not yet seem to 
know, what comparative phonology means, nor that the subject of the voice is 
part of natural history -5 will kindly excuse the errors of this description. It is 
offered only as a faint and broken light, obscurely showing one of the outer 
doors of this interesting department of knowledge: and now held-up, with the 
assistance of our present analysis, from memory of rural and pastime observa- 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 469 

and there may be more. Thus guttural grating, aspiration, and 
the different forms of stress are necessarily applied to some 

tion made at school on the borders of the Susquehanna before my thirteenth 
year. And would I could forget how often in thoughtless pleasure, I may have 
given disquietude or pang to those innocent lives, that afforded the means of 
my present contented occupation; and that still bring up so many juvenile 
memorials of time and place, in recording the forms of their intonation. 

After what is here said, on the general character of the voices of Birds, and 
with the light, of classification and description contained in this essay, a culti- 
vated car would not have much difficulty in ascertaining, whether the chirp of 
a bird is in the concrete or the radical pitch of a semitone, second, or other 
interval: of how many constituents the phrase consists; what, in the medley, 
are the places of pitch; with the kind and order of its phrases; and what, the 
concrete and discrete in the melody. As far as observation extends, we know^ 
the voice of birds is unchangeable in the species; it is therefore as well entitled to 
nomenclature, provided it can be assigned definitely, as the feathers, beak, and 
claws. If language had never furnished discriminative names for color and 
form, even these characteristics, like those of the voice, would never have been 
known in the descriptions of ornithology : or rather, ornithology as a classifica- 
tion, would be unknown. 

Without extending our observation to the whole range of animals, within 
which we might severally find all the varieties of the human voice, even to the 
protracted note of song, in the frog; I here give an outline of the vocal func- 
tions of the Mocking-bird^ ilustrative of the powers which generally belong to 
its class. 

The Mocking-bird has every variety and degree in Yocality. from the delicate 
chirp of the sparrow, and harsh scream of the jay, to the guttural bass of the 
clucking of the hen. He uses every variation of Time, from a mere point of 
sound, to the quantity of our most passionate interjections. He has command 
over all the intervals of the scale, both ascending and descending, in the discrete 
as well as the concrete pitch. His simple concrete exhibits the proper structure 
of the radical and vanish. He executes the wave in its equal and unequal, its 
direct and inverted forms; yet I cannot say, he uses its double movement. He 
exhibits all the forms of Stress on the concrete: the compound constitutes his 
shake. It is the diatonic shake, and consists, on its different occasions, of from 
five or six to ten or twelve iterations. It is not so rapid as the human shake, 
and consequently wants its liquidity ; nor does it ever end in a ; turn,' but passes 
carelessly to any effort that follows. This shake is sometimes made on a wider 
interval than the second: but it is a sluggish movement, and consists of only 
two or three repetitions, as we sometimes hear it in singers, of great execution. 
And it is worthy of remark, that in this slowness, the compound stress is plainly 
distinguishable. He uses the tremor, both on a continuous line, and with its 
rising and falling tittelar skips. All this comprehensive exercise of the throat, 
has individually the form of either chirp or phrase. The continued rounds of 
voice, which at night, sometimes last for hours, form therefore a medley of 
chirps and phrases, without successive similarity in the relation of time, vo- 



470 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

interval of pitch. The interval of pitch must be united with 
time, whether the quantity is long or short. The natural sign 

cality, force or pitch; and altogether without rythmus, cadencial close, or key. 
In this medley the phrases excede the chirps in number; but I cannot say, how 
many of each are used. Perhaps twenty kinds would include them all: and 
supposing these to be differenced by time and vocality, there would be more. 
Each set of the chirps and phrases, as it returns through the medley, may vary 
in the number of its repetitions. A chirp may be single, or may be repeated 
two or three times, or oftener. A phrase of two constituents may in the re- 
turns of the medley have three, four, or more repetitions of these two ; or as 
sometimes happens in the shake, ten or twelve: and it is the Same with a 
phrase of the tremor. The phrase of three or four constituents, which last is 
rarely heard, has fewer repetitions than the more simple ones; the chirp is 
most frequently heard only once. The whole medley then, has no regularity in 
the return of its several voices, nor in the number of their repetitions, to con- 
stitute it a Melody. 

It was first said by Somebody^ perhaps himself a parrot in human character-; 
though this bird mocks all others, he has no 'notes' of his own: and then 
Everybody, mocking somebody's say, Nobody thought of doubting it. Yet upon 
this very notion of exclusive property in the voice, he has more 'Notes' of his 
own than any other bird: and having within his compass, almost the whole 
constituency of song, whether human, or Volucrab, for Ornithology wants this 
adjective^ it would not be surprising, if other birds should recognize some of 
their supposed property, in his. When frequenting farms, with pigeons, hens, 
turkeys, and guinea-fowls, all around him; and when in the fields of Virginia, 
all day pierced by the whistle of the partridge^ with his own 'notes' almost 
stifled at night, by the panting voices of a whole settlement of whipperwills, 
he has never, within my knowledge, been heard to mock their phrases; though 
master perhaps of all the simple sounds that severally compose them. And 
certainly no Indian Farrinelli ever gave him an exarapleof the shake. Mimic 
then, as with his own natural voice, they would make him, it would have been 
a kindly restraint on those who have slandered him, to have had a natural ear 
of their own to prevent it. 

We have learned-; the vocal constituents of the song of the Mocking-bird, 
like the vocal signs in speech, are few in number; but in each case, our igno- 
rance of the individual signs, leaving us to regard only their numerous combina- 
tions, has created a belief that they are infinite. A certain vocality, or an 
interval maybe heard under a variation in time; and the same concrete, or 
tremor, or shake may differ in vocality, and in its places of pitch. 

The rule for the signs of passion, in speech, is strictly applicable to the voices 
of sub-animals, as regards those sounds which are purely vocal and separate 
from words. The repeated chirp, which seems to be the idle and unmeaning 
diatonic voice of birds, is generally a short quantity, on a single rising or 
falling concrete second, or third, and rarely, as far as I have observed, on the 
wider intervals. A prolongation of the chirp is usually expressive of their 
passions and appetites. Pain, love, and fear, are always exhibited in the move- 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 471 

may be heard joined to the words of the artificial; and of the 
natural, there must be two simultaneous, and there may be more. 
Not one form of expression can exist separately; and we may 
have under a single sylabic impulse, a long quantity, a wide 
interval, aspiration, and stress, all simultaneous in effecting a 
particular purpose in speech. 

The following is a summary of the instinctive or vocal signs, 
denoting the states of mind, we have called reverentive, and 
passionative. 

In the thirty-fourth section, it was proposed to employ the 
terms Piano, and Forte, for the degrees of force, respectively 
above and below the distinct and becoming audibility of that 
well-bred conversation, which equally avoids an overbearing loud- 
ness on one side, and a fashionable mincing, or a faint-mouthed 
and perplexing affectation, on the other. And first ; 

The Piano of the Voice. Some states of mind, together with 

merit of the semitone. But I am agreeably led on towards an arrangement, 
when I designed only to propose the scheme to others. The limited and perhaps 
imperfect manner in which, from a neglect of full observation, I have described 
this single instance of volucral intonation, may however show, that as there is 
now a system and nomenclature for the voices both of the garrulous, and mis- 
chievous Demagogue of American Assemblies, and of this harmless Polyglot of 
the American grove, there would be no great difficulty in classifjnng with pre- 
cision, more manageable individualities of sound, in the other departments of 
vocal Zoology. 

This subject is at least curious, if not useful; yet it lies out of my way, 
The sciences have large volumes of compilation: let us have from some 
Naturalist with a good ear, a little book of original truth, on the inquiry here 
proposed. Let it be done by pure and personal observation. Let the author 
not lose his strong breath of usefulness and fame, by a puerile precipitancy 
after reputation; nor hasten with his unripeness, in the market-like fear of 
being forestalled. Patient, enthusiastic, and unostentatious study.* independent 
observation and thought* and a disinterested love of truths with their sure and 
great results in science, are always solitary in an age, and cannot therefore be 
forestalled ; and on this point, as in promises under another name, it will be 
with those who seek the unaltered, and unalterable truths of nature, that the 
last in its proper season, shall be First. 

I add at the time of this sixth Edition, that forty years ago, the preceding 
Note was offered to the attention of the Naturalist; who with a prying and 
industrious ambition to have a new Bug, or an Old Fossil-bone named after 
himself, so narrows the scope of his duty, as to render him indifferent to the 
fact, that the sub-animal voice is embraced by Natural History, and is an in- 
teresting, if not a distinguishing part of Zoological classification. 



472 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

certain conditions of the body that may be combined with them, 
are properly expressed by a piano, or moderated voice, in cur- 
rent discourse. These states, and conditions are those of hu- 
mility, modesty, shame, doubt, irresolution, apathy, caution, 
repose, fatigue, and prostration from disease. They generally 
employ the simple diatonic melody : some however, with a piano 
or a feeble utterance, use the semitone, and the wave of the 
second. Of this kind are pity, grief, and awe. 

The Forte of the Voice. This sign, as the reverse of the last, 
is appropriate to states of mind directing muscular energy, and 
vivid degrees of passion. Some of these states are signified by a : 
high degree of force ; for in addition to those which employ it as 
a leading characteristic, such as rage, wrath, fear, and horror, 
some that depend for their expression, chiefly on intonation or 
accentual stress, do at the same time assume the character of 
forte or loudness. Of this class are astonishment, exultation, 
and laughter. 

Quickness of Voice. Inasmuch as quickness of the current 
melody generally goes with Short Quantity, in individual syla- 
bles, we do not make separate heads for these two subjects. 
Some states of mind, under this division, are likewise expressed 
by other signs, particularly by Loudness; as anger, rage, mirth, 
raillery and impatience. Many states having their principal 
signs in forms of intonation and stress, are joined also with 
quickness of voice. 

Slowness of Voice. Speakers who have no command over 
quantity, affect to be deliberate, by momentary rest between their 
words. But slow time in discourse, if not made by extended 
sylabic quantity, would from its frequent pauses, be monotonous 
and formal. Slow time and long quantity are an essential cause 
of dignified utterance, and are effected on the wave; this being 
the continuous return of an interval into itself? one of the means 
for producing an extension of time, without destroying the equa- 
ble concrete of speech. Slowness of time, with its constituent 
long quantity, is properly employed for many states of mind; as 
sorrow, grief, respect, veneration, dignity, apathy, contrition, and 
all others embracing refinement, and moderation. 

Vocality. It is unnecessary to repeat here all the terms denot- 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 473 

■ 

ing the forms of this Mode. The following are some of them, with 
their respective states of mind annexed. Harshness is directed 
by anger and imperative authority : gentleness by grief, modesty 
and commiseration: the whisper, which is an aspirated voice, by 
secrecy. The falsette is heard in the whine of peevishness, in 
the high tremulous pitch of mirth, and in the piercing scream of 
terror. The full body of the orotund, in a cultivated speaker, 
gives satisfactory expression to solemnity and grandeur. 

The Rising and the Falling Semitone. The simple rise of the 
semitone is not a frequent form of expression, as most plaintive 
intonations call for long quantity, and are therefore properly 
represented by the wave of this interval. Still complaint, grief, 
and other states of like import, may sometimes be made with an 
earnestness, requiring a short sylabic time. In this case the voice 
cannot bear the delay of the wave, and effects all the purposes 
of semitonic intonation, by the simple rise or fall through the 
concrete, with the addition when necessary, of the radical or 
vanishing stress. 

The Rising and the Falling Second or Tone. Those states of 
mind, called thoughts, in contradistinction to passions^ those nar- 
ratives or descriptions, which denote things as they are in them- 
selves, without reference to our relation to them, on the point of 
pleasure or pain, desire or aversion, interest or injury, are all re- 
presented by the plain unobtrusive interval of the second, either 
in its upward or downward course. The various uses of the voice, 
properly called Expression, have something so striking in their 
character, that the attentive observer may easily recognize them. 
When there is an absence of this expression, he may conclude^ 
the current of speech is in the diatonic melody. 

The Rising Third, Fifth and Octave. These intervals severally 
express different degrees of the same state of mind: the distinc- 
tions between the states themselves are designated by the verbal 
signs that describe them. In their varying extent, they represent 
interrogation, as moderate, dignified, or earnest. Combined with 
other vocal means they add to the question, particularly on the 
octave, the character of quaintness, sneer, and derision. With 
aspiration they have the effect of the downward intervals, and in- 
31 



474 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

dicate serious surprise and its congenial states. They express a 
conditional meaning, on emphatic words. Guttural vibration 
adds scorn to a question on the wider of these intervals; and 
joins to their character in emphasis^ haughtiness, disdain, re- 
proach, indignation, and contempt. As the deliberate execution 
of these intervals requires long quantity, they have not the ex- 
tended time, and consequently, not the solemn and dignified 
character, they assume when doubled into the wave. 

The Downward Third, Fifth and Octave. These severally ex- 
press, both different degrees of the same state of mind, and states 
of mind different among themselves. They are emphatically the 
signs of surprise, astonishment, wonder, and amazement; and 
although these states are not identical, still, each in its pecu- 
liarity, is represented upon these falling intervals: the specific 
difference being marked, either by their varied extent, or by the 
conventional phrase to which they are applied. These intervals 
also denote a positiveness, and a settled conviction on the part of 
the speaker; hence they are given to phrases of authority, com- 
mand, confidence, and satisfaction. A downward movement, we 
have learned, also produces the terminative repose of a cadence; 
and consequently when not joined with force, is well suited to 
express the state of quietude^ in resignation, despair, and the 
condition of mind which attends fatigue. And yet any difference, 
under all these cases, of a similar intonation, is distinguished by 
their respective conventional language. 

The Wave of the Semitone. The expression of the simple rise 
and the fall of the semitone was noticed above; but its return or 
contrary flexure into the wave, is the most common form of this 
expressive interval. There is scarcely a vocal sign which repre- 
sents so many and such various states of mind; the specific dis- 
tinction of the cases, being made by the descriptive phrase. The 
wave of the semitone differs from the simple interval, in the dig- 
nity derived from its extended quantity, and in its continued 
expression, from a repetition of the interval by its contrary 
flexure. Sorrow, grief, vexation, chagrin, repining, contrition, 
impatience, peevishness, compassion, commiseration, condolence, 
pity, love, fondness, supplication, fatigue, and pain, with what- 
ever varieties may exist among them, are still, through the differ- 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 475 

ence of the conventional sign, all expressed by the wave of the 
semitone. 

The Wave of the Second. The interval of the second, either in 
a rising or falling direction, being the voice of plain unimpas- 
sioned thought, is purely a diatonic sign, and not a means of 
expression. Still as the downward return of this interval into 
the form of the wave, produces a long quantity, it necessarily 
adds to the second, the peculiar effect of that quantity-* and when 
duly extended, gives to thoughtive discourse its full character of 
dignity, and grandeur; to the exclusion of the intrusive, and 
therefore inappropriate use of force, quality, abruptness, and the 
wider intervals of intonation. 

The Waves of the Third, Fifth and Octave. The forms of the 
wave are so various, that it would far excede the design of this 
Work to enumerate them-; and to assort them with the passions. 
The principles that govern their expression were unfolded, in 
the twenty-fifth, and six following sections. The character of 
the constituent intervals of these waves has great influence in 
determining their respective expressions. The upward vanish of 
the last constituent of the inverted form has the effect of inter- 
rogation; and the downward course of the last constituent of the 
direct, that of surprise. If then these two contrary forms of the 
wave have, respectively, through their final constituent, the same 
character as the separate and simple rise and fall of the interval, 
there might seem to be no necessity for their use. Yet supposing 
the effects to be identical, which however, may not always be the 
casej the wave affords besides, important means for extending the 
quantity of sylables, and consequently for expressing certain 
states of mind, with deliberate dignity. In the double form, the 
wave denotes sneer, mockery, petulance, contempt, and scorn; 
still these last two are more conspicuously exhibited by conjoin- 
ing aspiration with the single wave. 

The Radical Stress. From the forcible character of this stress, 
it is employed for increasing the impressiveness of the other vocal 
signs of the passions, capable of receving it. Although it is more 
particularly applicable to immutable sylables, yet when we read 
rapidly, it is used even on those of indefinite quantity: but rapid 
reading necessarily weakens its force. Mirth, impatience, anger, 



470) VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

and rage, are generally uttered with haste, and therefore take on 
this stress, in emphatic places. It is employed on imperative 
words; for it has a degree of positiveness, similar to that ex- 
pressed by the downward intervals of intonation. 

The Median Stress. The radical stress is used for abruptly 
enforcing expression on short sylables. The median gradually 
and smoothly swells the voicej and this requires a long quantity, 
together with a deliberate and graceful utterance. I say, to- 
gether with deliberation; as long quantities do sometimes assume 
the abrupt opening of the radical, or the final jerk, of the vanish- 
ing stress. The states of mind, calling for median forcej par- 
ticularly on the dignity of the second, and the plaintiveness of 
the semitone^ are those represented by waves of the various inter- 
vals. Of these kinds are awe, respect, solemnity, reverence, and 
supplication, that make our division of inter-thoughtive expres- 
sion. This median stress may perhaps, be executed on an ex- 
tended rise or fall of the simple fifth and octave; or the wide 
downward vanish of surprise, and wide upward vanish of inter- 
rogation, may sometimes be invested with this graceful form of 
force. 

The Vanishing Stress. This stress, and its expression have 
been so particularly noticed, in a former section, that it is un- 
necessary here to repeat the detail. Although far inferior in 
dignity, to the median, it is sometimes highly expressive of the 
state represented by the semitone and wider intervalsj in grief, 
surprise, and interrogation. By impressing the extremes of these 
intervals on the ear, it points out their several ranges more dis- 
tinctly than they are marked by the attenuated vanish. It may 
seem to be a nice distinction, but it is nevertheless true and prac- 
tical, that care must be taken, not to let this stress run into the 
thorough form ; for this, as before remarked, rather obscures the 
interrogative expression. 

Compound Stress. So much was said, on this subject, in the 
thirty-eighth section, that the Reader is refered to it. The com- 
pound, like the median, vanishing, and thorough stress, and the 
loud concrete, cannot be made on short sylables. On prolonged 
quantity, it is the sign of energy or violence, in the passion repre- 
sented by it. 






VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 477 

The Thorough Stress. We refer to the thirty-ninth section, 
for an account of this sign of rudeness, and vulgarity, when ap- 
plied to long sylabic quantity, in current discourse. By the 
4 hardness of its touch,' it destroys the graceful outline of the 
equable concrete; and heavily overlays that delicacy of grada- 
tion in the tinted vanish, so essential to the refine.d picture of 
thought and passion, in the wonderful design and coloring of 
true and natural speech. 

On the subject of the Loud Concrete, as a sign of expression, 
I have nothing to add worthy of record, beyond what has been 
previously said. 

The Tremor of the Second and of Wider Intervals. The tremu- 
lous movement of these intervals designates a number of states of 
mind widely different from each other. And here again we have 
an instance of a principle widely influential in the expression of 
the passions ; for these states, though set within the same gen- 
eral-frame of intonation, have their specific divisions marked by 
the conventional terms which describe them. The tremor of the 
second and of wider intervals, is employed for exultation, mirth, 
pride, haughtiness, sneer, derision, and contempt; and in effect- 
ing these expressions, the tittles may move through the simple 
rise or fall, or through the wave. 

The Tremor of the Semitone. The tremulous movement through 
the semitone, on a tonic element, is a form of the crying-voice. 
Used in sylabic intonation, it implies a deeper distress than that 
of the simple semitone; and expresses in a greater or less de- 
gree, the condition of suffering, grief, tenderness, and supplica- 
tion; yet widely as they may differ from each other, they alike 
fall, when carried to excess, into the tremulous intonation ; their 
difference being marked by the conventional phrase. 

The Aspiration. The pure vocality of the tonics and subtonics, 
when partly obscured by its union with aspiration, denotes many 
and widely different states of mind; yet with the aid of the con- 
ventional signs, it can clearly express them all. It accompanies 
the force of vociferation; is the faint sign of secrecy; and is 
joined with energetic utterance, when this is not strained into the 
falsette. It also indicates earnestness, curiosity, surprise, and 
horror. On a former occasion, contempt, sneer, and scorn, were 



478 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

assigned to the wave, particularly in its unequal form. Yet even 
this does not carry the full measure of their expression, if not 
conjoined with aspiration : and further, the union of aspiration 
even with simple upward and downward wider intervals, may 
represent these several states of mind. 

The Guttural Vibration. This is a harsh and grating vocal 
sign; and denotes all those states of mind classed under ill-humor; 
including dissatisfaction, peevishness, and discontent. But it 
likewise appears in the strained ferocity of rage, and revenge, 
and is the common sign to children and others of an emphatic 
rebuke. It also has an import of sneer, contempt, and scorn; 
all of which, under the same natural or vocal sign, are distin- 
guished by the conventional word or phrase. 

Of the Emphatic Vocule. This is exclusively an indication of 
force, and in the final abrupt elements of particular words is the 
sign of anger and rage, and of vehemence in any passion. It is 
however of rare occurrence; and being almost needless in culti- 
vated elocution, ought perhaps to be even more rare than it is. 

The Broken- Melody. The Current melody of Narrative style 
has been represented as a succession of diatonic intonations; yet 
employing occasionally, for dignified expression, a longer time, a 
fuler quantity, and a wider appropriate interval, both of concrete 
and of discrete pitch ; and intersected by pauses, applied as often 
as the thought, or expression may require. Sometimes, particular 
states of mind overrule the occasions, and grammatical proprie- 
ties of pausing, thereby producing notable rests after very short 
phrases, and even after every word, without reference to the con- 
nections of syntax. I use the term Broken-Melody, to signify 
the interruptions, sometimes produced by the excess of certain 
passions. 

The effect of this function will be perceved in the physiological 
explanation of it. 

In the section on the mechanism of the voice, two kinds of 
expiration were described; one resembling the act of sighing, 
whereby all the breath is sent forth, in a single impulse of greater 
or less duration; within which, scarcely more than one or two 
words can be articulated with ease. The other is used in com- 
mon speech. Within it, we are able to utter whole sentences, by 






VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 479 

a frugal use of the breath, in giving out small portions at a time, 
to successive sylables. From the former manner of expiration, 
seeming to draw-off all the contents of the lungs, it may be called 
the Exhausting-breath: and the latter, from its being held-back, 
to be dealt out in such portions as sylables require, may be called, 
for want of a better name, the Holding-breath. 

It was said formerlyj an infant begins to speak in the ex- 
hausting-expiration. It occurs likewise when we are 'out of 
breath, '.from exercise; and in the extreme debility of disease. 
Hence in these cases, there is often only one sylable heard in a 
single act of expiration. The breath of the tremulous movement 
of laughter and crying, is of this kind. The tremor does here 
create a slight difference; but if the Reader will for a moment 
make the experiment, he will percevej he quickly laughs and cries 
himself, so to speak, to the bottom of his breathj which is one cause 
of the distress, and even pain felt in excessive laughter ; nor can 
he, without an inhaling pause, continue the tremulous function, 
for that extended time, of expiration, which is so easily effected 
on the breath of common speech. Young children, in violent 
crying, sometimes so exhaust the lungs, that a considerable pause 
occurs between the ebb and flow of respiration, much to the alarm 
of inexperienced mothers. 

This exhausting-breath may be produced by a high degree of 
passionative excitement. Deep distress involuntarily creates it, 
in the form of a sigh. Hence, in the excess of mental suffering, 
or bodily pain, the holding-power is lost, and we speak in the 
exhausting-breath;* with but one, or at most, two or three words 
within a single act of expiration: and by these repeated inter- 
sections of the inhaling pauses, the Broken-melody is produced. 
The case will be the same, should an excess of excitement blend 
the tremor of laughter or of crying, with the current of discourse; 
for by the exhausting-power of these functions, the melody must 
be interrupted, through the frequent necessity for inspiration. 
It may be asked, why the breath cannot be rapidly recovered, as 
in the momentary rests of speech that are sometimes scarcely 
perceptible. The cause is thisj In the holding-expiration of 
common discourse, all the breath is not discharged from the 
lungs; such a quantity only is gradually spent upon the words, 



480 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT ANp PASSION. 

as may be imperceptibly and instantly restored. But in speak- 
ing with the exhausting-expiration, there if 3 a discharge of nearly 
all the breath by an extreme contraction of tne chest; and the 
subsequent act of re-filing the lungs requires a degree of expan- 
sion and a depth of draught, that cannot be imperceptibly per- 
formed, and that occupy the time of the remarkable pauses in 
the Broken-melody. 

It is not necessary to speak of the phra ses of intonation, em- 
ployed in this peculiar melody. They may be of ever J species ; 
though, from the many interruptions of th£ current, the relation- 
ships of the phrases are not so perceptibl e nor so important in 
practical effect, as in the more connected s Pq uenc es of a common 
melody. 



I have here endeavored to open the way f° r a ^ u " an( * more 
precise description of the vocal signs of th< )u g nfc and passion, and 
for a systematic arrangement of them, w* tn the states of mind 
they severally express. They have been regarded as individuals, 
although not one is ever heard alone; in some instances many 
are united in a single act of expression, anc * they ma y De em ~ 
ployed in every manner of compatible c( )mDma tion. A feeble 
and a forcible sound cannot exist in the g am e impulse of utter- 
ance; yet either of these conditions may be conjoined severally 
with all the forms of pitch, or vocality, or time. No one in- 
terval of pitch can, during the same sylab 10 impulse, be another 
interval; but any interval may as occasi ons require, be simul- 
taneous in execution with any form of \^c&htj, time, or force. 
So in the wave, the intervals may be consecutive in all possible 
ways; and these ways, either in interval, or arrangement, may 
be conjoined with every exercise of the v °ice, not at variance 
with their definition. 

By the use then of the comparatively lifted number of Vocal 
signs here enumerated, together with the a ssistant means of Con- 
ventional language, the apparently infinite forms of expression in 
speech are produced. The preceding det a ^ °f these signs, and 
the numerical limitation of the terms of fheir nomenclature, at 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 481 

once afford an observer the means to survey, through the com- 
posure of a classifying reflection, the whole extent of this sup- 
posed infinity; and thereby, to change a vulgar and distracting 
wonder at immensity, into an inteligent admiration of the obvious 
union and intermutable variety of a few distinguishable con- 
stituents. 

The Reader may now perceve why I have considered the forms 
of expression, in their separate state; or have regarded only a 
few of their combinations. To give an extended detail of their 
possible groups, would be beyond my design in setting forth the 
broad Philosophy of speech. Nor is it necessary under a prac- 
tical view; for having analytically resolved the apparent com- 
plexity of speech into its assignable constituents, we cannot be at 
a loss to synthetically combine them, when necessary, for every 
purpose of expression. 

From a review of our history of the Instinctive signs of thought 
and passion, and a reference to the limited amount of their modes 
and forms, compared with the unlimited variety of mental condi- 
tions to be expressed, we are struck with the disproportion be- 
tween their respective numbers: and learn, how the deficiencies 
in the instinctive signs are supplied. For in the 

First place. The same vocal sign is used for more than one 
state of mind: as in the numerous class, respectively denoted by 
the semitone, and by the downward intervals. 

Second. Some of those states, generically represented by the 
same natural sign, have yet their specific difference marked by 
the artificial sign, or conventional language that describes them. 
The downward octave expresses equally, command, and astonish- 
ment; their difference, under the same intonation, being signified 
by the imperative word, and by the phrase that declares the 
astonishment. 

Third. A great number of the mental states have no instinc- 
tive or vocal sign, but depend, for their expression, altogether on 
descriptive language. There is no vocal sign by which a speaker 
can inform us, even if he would, of his avarice, his vanity, or his 
remorse. They must be shown in personal action, or be confessed 
by his verbal declaration. The possible combinations of all the 
modes, forms, degrees, and varieties of the voice, may furnish a 



482 VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 

sign for every thought and passion ; but this estimate and classi- 
fication having never yet been made, the subject must lay-over, 
for an age of the Physical Philosophy of the mind, as well as of 
the voice. 

Having throughout the preceding sections particularly described 
the constituents of speech, which in their various and respective 
uses, denote the mental states of thought and passionj I must 
offer a few remarks on the subject of that difficulty which a long 
habit of ignorance and error, in the old school of Elocution, may 
create in acquiring a practical command over the true and Natural 
System of the voice. When the meaning of our terms for the 
states of mind, and for their corresponding vocal signs is known, 
there will be no great hesitation in recognizing their exemplified 
distinctions, nor in acquiring a facility in executing them; and it 
will then be found, that the use of all the apparently novel modes 
and forms of the voice, in the manner proposed by our Scientific 
System, which has raised the alarm of difficulty, is only a return^ 
after ages on ages of conventional theory and delusion^ to the in- 
stinctive and truthful purpose and practice of what must have 
been the natural Archetype of Speech. For the developments of 
this volume have brought me to the conviction, that the system of 
plain diatonic melody, as a ground for the expressive intervals, is 
the true ordination of the speaking voice: and a reference to the 
universal wisdom of Nature, even under the vicious habits of man, 
shows, that as in the benevolence of her final causes, she is prone 
to good and not to evilj so, to give a particular instance, the voice 
is prone, 'as the sparks fly upwards,' to this ordination for denot- 
ing the two leading conditions of the mind. Under this view, it 
would appear, that when the design of Nature has not been per- 
verted or overruled, we should occasionally find examples of 
greater or less accordance with her adjusted system: and I must 
say, in support of this inference, that although I have never found 
a Speaker, conforming in all points to our proposed rulesj yet I 
have met with some instances, in which a natural tendency has so 
far prevailed, that its purposes have in a great measure been ac- 
complished; and others, in which it has not been so much con- 
founded or thwarted by corrupt example, as to prevent our 
scientific method, from developing the latent resources for proper 



VOCAL SIGNS OF THOUGHT AND PASSION. 483 

and elegant speech. I here refer to science, as universally, a 
true picture of the things and laws of Nature; and, in our present 
case, as the means of preventing the influence of bad education 
and example, on the instinctive tendencies of the voice. 

He who has a knowledge of the constituents of speech, and of 
their powers and uses, is the potential master of the science of 
Elocution; and he must then derive from his ear, his perception 
of propriety, and his taste, the means of actually applying it 
with success. When this is accomplished, it will be foundj the 
performance of Scientific speech, is no more difficult to the Actor, 
than the performance of music is to thousands of little girls when- 
ever they are taught it: and that with a proper notation of the 
vocal signs of the former, one will be as easily read and executed 
at sight as the other. 

I have read somewhere, that the Ancients practiced what they 
called Silent Reading. It is possible, they meant, going over in 
mental perception, the forms of intonation, and of the other modes 
of the voice; for we knowj this unuttered reading is practica- 
ble, and may be employed, both on our own peculiar manner, 
w T hen we think of it, and on that of others, when we have the 
memorial power of silently imitating them. This is the process 
of the Mimic ; for his memory of any peculiarity in the vocal 
sign of those he imitates, must silently precede his audible utter- 
ance of it. But the faculty of Silent Reading can be effectively 
exercised, for pleasure and improvement, only under a clear men- 
tal picturing of a scientific system of the voice, and of its precise 
nomenclature. By our present analytic knowledge of the states 
of mind, and of the vocal signs of thought and passion; and a 
conventional notation of those signs, we may with a perception 
of our own manner of speaking, and a memory of the speech of 
others, be able to silently practice the proprieties of elocution, 
and to correct its errors, by the silent use of an instructed intel- 
ect. We know that the perceptions of the several senses are 
represented in the memory; that the images on the eye and vi- 
brations on the ear, are clearer and more readily revived, than 
through the others; and that we may memorially think of any 
peculiarity in the voice. In intonation, the different intervals; 
in force, the different stresses; in time, the different quantities; 



484 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

and the various vocalities and pauses^ when once perceved and 
named, have their respective characters so impressed on the 
memory, that we can think-them, in its silent reading. This 
process of memorial perception with audible, is like its process 
with visible signs. The Painter has on his memory the ocular 
image of a real, or of an invented subject; and lays on his tablet 
the visible copy of his memorial lines and colors. The musical 
Composer has in his memory, impressions of all the constituents 
of song; and silently arranging them by his mind's ear, notes 
down his melody and harmony, for others either silently or audi- 
bly to read. There is no difference then, between the method in 
a silent reading of music, and that of a silent reading of speech. 
Indeed, from the less complex structure of its melody, the read- 
ing of speech should be the easier of the two. 

I have near me at this moment, notations from scenes in Mam- 
let, and in Lear; sent to me by one, who acquired a full knowl- 
edge of the Scientific system, and its practical application, from an 
unassisted study of this Volume; as the volume itself was written 
from the study of Nature alone. Whether these notations, and 
my opinion of them, are correct or otherwise, I can both silently 
and audibly read them ; and thereby have the means of ilustrating 
to others, the truth and the practical application of the subject 
before us. 



SECTION XLIX. 
Of the Means of Instruction in ^Elocution. 

I have endeavored to set before the Reader, a copy of the all- 
perfect Design of Nature, in the construction of Speech. It is 
necessary, if we may still carry on the figure, to furnish at the 
same time, a 'Working plan,' to him who may wish to build up 
for himself, a delightful Home of Philosophy and taste, or a 
popular Temple of Fame, in Elocution. 

If the Header is one of those, who from disappointment in 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 485 

higher hopes, have at last resolved to receve their Station in life, 
through the approbation of ignorance; and who in their accom- 
plishments are careless of rising above the discernment of their 
unthinking Admirers, let him pass by this section. A little will 
serve his purposes; and the instinct of his ambition, without the 
wise designs of human assiduity, will enable him to be easily the 
file-leader of his herd. But if he beleves in that fine induction 
of the Greeks, that 'good things are difficult;' if he sees the suc- 
cessful pretender, still restless and dissatisfied, in having made 
captives only of the Ignorant; if he desires to work for high and 
hard masters, and to take his ultimate repose by the side of their 
ever- during approbation, he may receve from the following pages, 
some assistance towards the accomplishment of his resolution to 
acquire the art of Reading- Well. 

Can Elocution be taught? This question has heretofore been 
asked through ignorance. It shall in another age, or I mistake 
the prevailing power of science, be asked only through folly. 

The skeptics on the subject of the practicability of teaching 
elocution, appear under three classes. To the First belong those, 
who knowing the ways of the voice have never been broadly and 
distinctly traced, beleve they never can be reduced to assignable 
rules. This opinion is grounded on the thought that the ex- 
pressive effects of speech procede from some 'occult quality,' or 
metaphysical working of the 'spirit;' which however, is neither 
high nor low, loud nor soft; nor any of the physical and ap- 
preciable modes of vocal sound. They who carelessly overlook 
the due revelation, which Nature never withholds from the close 
and fervent observer, seem to have that notion of vocal expres- 
sion, which poetical school-girls have of the smiles, and 'side-long 
glances' of their interesting young admirers^ that they are not a 
palpable effect of the physical form of the face, in its state of 
rest, and in its various motions; but a kind of immaterialism, 
which darts from the eye and breathes from the lips; a 'soul,' as 
it were in the countenance, which is yet, in the words of the 
song, 'neither shape nor feature.' 

The skepticism of the Second class assumes that accomplish- 
ments in elocution are the result of certain indescribable powers 
of 'genius,' and that the happy possessor of them is the produc- 



486 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

tion of one of 'Nature's moments of enthusiasm.' Such sleight of 
tongue, to hide the plain agency of natural causes, is not dis- 
dained by many who possess powers, sufficient to set them far 
above the stale-grown tricks for reputation. He who has the 
truth and modesty of a master in his art, knows that he is dis- 
tinguished from the thousands who surround him, not more by a 
superiority over their vulgar notions on the subject of ambition, 
and the chances of success, than by a singleness in purpose and 
zeal, and the accumulative power of a self-gathering docility: 
nor does he withhold instruction, in the fear of rivalship; for 
with justified confidence in a well-tried knowledge, he persuades 
himself, that if any useful purpose should make it necessary, he 
can afterwards, always keep pace with a competitor, and then 
surpass himself. 

Those who constitute the Third class are too inteligent to be- 
leve in this mystical doctrine of the 'Inspiration of genius;' yet 
they hold, that the art of reading-well can be taught only by im- 
itation. Elocution may unfortunately too often have satisfied 
its faith with the creed of Imitation ; and thereupon, set-up its 
different Idols, for public worship. But when has the world, on 
a single subject of inquiry, ever found, in that faith or fiction 
which sees evidence in what is not to be seen alike by all, any 
other result than that of sophistical labor, without product, and 
illiberal quarrels, without end. Hence the vain conceit of form- 
ing a school of Imitative Elocution: for the several partizans of 
different favorites will never agree to raise any one individual, to 
examplary superiority. An example to be useful and permanent 
in art, must be set-up with the consent of all: and that consent 
can be drawn only from a common and accessible source of in- 
struction and knowledge, not from individual or party admiration. 
It was therefore, under ignorance of there being a common source 
of knowledge in the few and classified constituents of speech, that 
such a wavering notion as Imitation became the deceptive Ignis 
Fatuus of Elocution, in absence of that yet imleading Cynosure 
to every eye alikej the steclfast unity of Principles in the Art. 
It is the design of this essay, to furnish from Nature, and not 
from variable examples of human authority, those describable 
truths, on which all may begin their agreement; and by extend- 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 487 

ing this consent, may at last raise an observative and universal 
school of Elocution. 

I must here notice the objection, often made to teaching Elocu- 
tion by systematic rulesj that it will necessarily produce a formal, 
and affected, or as it is called without foundation, a theatric style 
of speech. This charge is made either by those who do not, in 
all cases, know the meaning and power of instructive principles, 
which are only the exponents of a classified knowledge in the 
arts; or by those who have had the experience of some very 
loose and narrow rules for their own narrow and unsuccessful 
schemes.* 

* An especial form, and the fulest force of this objection has lately been 
embodied into a so-called system of Elocution, carelessly woven out of common 
learning, and fair-faced 'reasonings,' first published under the Article, Rhetoric, 
in the Encyclopedia Metropolitana ; and subsequently under the name of a pro- 
found, as all obscure writers are thought to be, and accomplished Archbishop; 
thus* adding an authority of high official and personal character, to the out- 
spread influence, and confirmatory support of a sworn brotherhood of British 
Contributors, of the foremost reputed inteligence, learning, taste, and Scientific 
Hank, in the United Kingdom. 

In one of our prefaces, we recorded the magisterial decision of the President 
of the American Philosophical Society, that any analysis of the expression of 
the human voice is impossible. And I have now to quote from a high dignitary 
of the Church, the equally dogmatic declaration, that the employment of a suc- 
cessful analysis, far from leading to a proper, energetic, and elegant use of the 
voice, would entirely pervert and corrupt it. In the Fourth Part of his Rhetoric, 
the first chapter, and fourth section, he says: 'But there is one principle run- 
ning through all their precepts,' [the precepts of those who would Leach elocution by 
precept,) 'which being, according to my views, radically erroneous, must, if 
those views be correct, vitiate every system founded upon it. The principle I 
mean is, that in order to acquire the best style of Delivery, it is requisite to 
study analytically the emphases, tones, pauses, degrees of loudness, which 
give the proper effect to each passage that is well delivered; to frame rules 
founded on the observation of these ; and then, in practice, deliberately and 
carefully to conform the utterance to these rules, so as to form a complete 
artificial system of Elocution.' ( Whether the writer had ever seen the 'Philosophy 
of the Human Voice,' does not appear; and the case is the stronger if he had not^for, 
had he read it through, the objection could not have been more directly pointed at its 
analysis and rules.) 

' That such a plan not only directs us into a circuitous and difficult path, to- 
wards an object which may be reached by a shorter and straighter, but also, in 
most instances, completely fail? of that very object, and even produces, oftener 
than not, effects the very reverse of what it designed, is a doctrine for which it 
will be necessary to offer some reasons.' 



488 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

This objection is grounded on some method, supposed to be 
free from this analytic formality, and preceptive affectation; and 
called, the 'Natural Manner.' But this manner having no de- 
scribable standard of its own truth, propriety and taste, is vaguely 
refered to an 'occult' animal instinct, under that boastful term of 
human vanity, Prerogative 'Genius:' which, through its untrained 
and wayward ignorance, would, with an impudent claim to an in- 
born privilege, reject the wise and prevailing efforts of educated 
art. Yet instinct even when thus nominally dignified into 
'Genius,' seems to be nothing more than the result of an organ- 
ization prepared by nature to receve the impression of directive 
causes, which thereupon act necessarily, to excite the organic 
power, limited as it may be, and to exercise it to its end. As 
this organization of instinct begins to work itself into mind, the 
knowledge thereby acquiredj for we perceve mind, only through 
knowdedgej creates by slow degrees, another state, or another 
more complicated and effective mental organization, so to speak; 

Now, the good Prelate's 'reasons' are employed, on the one hand, against an 
analytical method^ which,, from not comprehending, as it seems, the purpose of 
resolving the voice into its constituents, he thinks would produce an Artificial 
manner of speech, and on the other, in favor of his notion of what he calls the 
Natural manner; not drawn, as it should be, from the ordination of God and 
Nature, but founded on the following w??founded remark, by Adam Smith-; to- 
wards the close of his reflections on 'the Imitative Arts,' already refered-to at 
the end of our nineteenth section. 'Though in speaking, a person may show a 
very agreeable tone of voice, yet if he seems to intend to show it-; if he appears 
to listen to the sound of his own voice, and as it were to tune it into a pleas- 
ing modulation, he never fails to offend, as guilty of a most disagreeable affec- 
tation.' 

To show the general bearing of this 'reasoning,' we here make an analogical 
application of Adam Smith's and the Prelate's thought to another related esthetic 
art. Thoujjh a Painter might please us in executing a well invented subject of 
a picture^ yet if he seems to intend to show his skill, or to look at his own com- 
position, and as it were, to approve of the principles of his art, in their accom- 
plishment of his design, his coloring, and shaded light, thereby to bring his 
purpose to a finished effect-; he never fails to offend, as guilty of a most dis- 
agreeable iifr'cctation. 

It has been one of the objects of our Work to answer 'reasoning' by fact: 
and though we here notice the Prelate's adopted, and unsifted faith and notions, 
the serious argument against them, which we do not require, others will here- 
after draw, for their satisfaction, from the demonstrative answer of Observation 
and Time. 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 489 

on which the objects or facts of an art act more broadly as direc- 
tive causes, to excite the no less necessary and unerring purposes, 
and practical ends of science. The practical ends of Elocution, 
as an elegant art, are, to denote our thoughts, and passions, with 
truth, propriety, and taste, and consequently without the error 
and deformity of awkwardness, or affectation. When therefore, 
by analytic knowledge of the constituents of an artj principles, 
or classifications of its facts, for some effective purpose are 
framed, these principles become, as it were, the scientific instinct 
of the new and more complicated organization of the mind, in its 
state of acquired knowledge: just as in its own way, the original 
and more simple organization of nature, exercises its limited and 
merely animal instinct. And as this instinct, or call it 'genius,' 
of the Old Elocution produces what the objectors to the use of 
Analytic Rules, assume to be the propriety and grace of its 
'Natural Manner;' so the regeneration of the mind, as we de- 
scribed it, to a new life of accumulated knowledge, has neces- 
sarily a tendency, in its scientific instinct, towards the natural 
manner of a more comprehensive, refined, and effective Elocu- 
tion. It is then the limited animal instinct of the Old School, 
and its ignorance of the wide resources of the scientific instinct 
of the New with its analytic, more exact, and exalted natural 
mannerj that does really produce in itself the formality, and the 
theatric affectation, which it deprecates and blindly charges on a 
better system. For it must be borne in mind, that the important 
vocal Mode of Intonation, outlawed as it is from all inquiry, has 
with its power of expression, been heretofore employed, whether 
by those who adopt, or who reject the rulesj for there is little 
difference in the event of their failuresj only with the intonative, 
and limited resources of the brute.* 

* This charge of a Theatric manner on any pompous or affected speaker, is 
one of the innumerable instances of the inconsistent and muddled human mind. 
The world of Taste goes to the Theater to hear the purest style of Elocution. 
and thinks it so, or it would not continue its approbation. Dignitaries of the 
Church and their plebean followers, who do not go to this Wicked Place, would 
depreciate the character of an elegant amusement they dare not, with worldly 
motives, enjoys and therefore condemn it. From some of their metaphysical 
notions, or from Shakspeare's caricature of a particular 'robustious fellow tear- 
ing a passion to ragsj' they speak of any ostentatious manner, whether in school - 
32 



490 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

It has been the oversight and misfortune of the Old school of 
Imitation, that even with the striking analogies of Rhetoric, 
Music, Painting and the Landscape, severally founded on the 
relations of these Arts, to capacities and principles in the human 
mindj they never perceved, though they obscurely used without 
perceving, the equally elegant, and for human purposes, the more 
essential relations of the modes and forms of the voice, to the 
mental states of thought and passion ; and therefore remained 
deaf to the cries of sister-principles of propriety and taste, crav- 
ing to be admitted into the Esthetic family, as the New-born art 
of Elocution. 

From what is here said, we may offer three remarks on this ob- 
jection to the use of Rules in the Art of Reading. First. An 
attempt to teach by rules, under a partial knowledge of the con- 
stituents of speech, could never in the old school, except by 
chance, have been elegantly right; and must have been often 
formally and affectedly wrong. Second. It was from the want 
of the Universal Rules of Speech, drawn from a full analysis of 
its constituents, that led the old school, to conclude^ there could 
be none. And it was this want, that led its .followers, in groping 
after an indefinable excelence, whether natural or artificial, to 
fall into their inherent constraint and affectation; the real causes 
of which they had not a sufficient light of analysis and rule, to 
enable them to avoid. Third. The effect of our proposed system 
of analysis and principles for teaching the art of reading, and 
for insuring its freedom from formality and affectation, will be 
the same in every other art, whether useful or esthetic. In all, 
it is necessary to know what is to be done, and what means are 
to be thoughtfully employed, to do it well; to practice its rules, 
at first perhaps awkwardly, in closely and slowly thinking of their 
application^ and by this frequent repetition, to enable the act, so 
far to wean itself from the directive thought, as to become an effi- 
cacious habit; and finally, to use a full knowledge of the art, 

boys, or the Pulpit, as theatric. And according to the objector in the present 
casej instruction on the principles of vocal Time and Intonation must neces- 
sarily produce this Theatric affectation. I cannot, by the scale of our analysis, 
positively decide on the Archbishop's exemplification of his 'reasoning and 
argument,' from never having had the opportunity of hearing him read. 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 491 

with almost the unperceved power of what we have metaphorically 
called a scientific instinct. The purely acquired human art of 
Swimming, unassisted by instinct, though learned with tedious 
effort^ directed by earnest thoughtj and only mastered at last by 
careful attention to every imitative and embarrassing niotionj is 
afterwards, from that attention fading into habit, successfully 
employed in danger* with the thought only of the shore to be 
reached, and the life to be saved: and in like manner, the purity, 
propriety, energy and elegance of rhetorical composition which 
though slowly perceved, and only thoroughly learned, by close 
attention to their particulars and to the rules that should govern 
them, as our unfriendly Prelate must have known by self-expe- 
rience^ are afterwards, without a perception of those particulars, 
applied in public oratory to the broad purposes of a well instructed 
and successful eloquence. 

I have often been led to consider the opposite characters of 
propriety in the style of Composition, and of impropriety in the 
Vocal habits of speakers. Our Western World is overrun by 
itinerant lecturers, and ubiquitous speech-makers of every sort; 
the same in class with the Older Sophistsj but without their 
careful Rhetoric, and the candid warning of their Name: yet 
however humble their subject-matter and their taste, the most 
insignificant and illiterate so to call them, are often as connected 
in their words and sentences as the orator of higher power and 
scholarship ; while in their respective intonations, and other 
modes of the voice, they are sometimes both-alike, often no more 
than negatively agreeable and correct, and generally, in various 
degrees indistinct, affected, monotonous, outrageous, or false, to 
a cultivated ear. 

Two causes at least may be assigned for this difference. Onej 
that the crowd of the world is too often satisfied with a careless 
manner in its affairs; and as the greater part of what is called 
Oratory, compared with the permanent words and works of Wis- 
dom, relates only to the events and opinions of the dayj it is 
looked upon as unnecessary to waste attention on the voice; 
especially under the belief, that Nature spontaneously directs 
what is here required. This is exemplified by the many in- 



492 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

stances of deformed elocution, among the renowned dialectic 
speakers of the Senate, the Pulpit, and the Bar; with whom the 
vocal part of education, being considered as not essential, the 
Orator in his ambitious contentions, and delusions, thinks or 
finds, he does not need its assistance. Hence with a Slavery- 
agitator in the American Congress, and an Abolition-preacher 
about the streets, there is equally an ignorant disregard to the 
proper, and certainly to the elegant uses of the voice. 

The other cause shows why speakers are equally correct, or 
nearly so, in the grammatical character of their discourse. For 
having by truth or sophistry, to convince or to persuade their 
hearers, it must be with a connected order of thought, however 
defective or false the intonation. To render their language com- 
prehensible, they are obliged in childhood to learn the right per- 
ceptions of words; afterwards to acquire by book or imitation 
the proprieties of grammar, with the meaning of phrases and 
punctuation ; and finally to follow examples of a proper arrange- 
ment of words and sentences. In this case the speaker is com- 
pelled to acknowledge his ignorance and his obligation to learn. 
And as neither the Speaker nor the Audienceperceve a difference 
between the right and the wrong in the voicej ignorance with 
both being their defense against knowledge^ neither thinks it 
necessary to learn, and the speaker, like our Learned Prelate, 
regards the power of properly using his voice as a natural gift, 
which would be forfeited by the interference of systematic in- 
struction. 

We can here perceve the causes why respectively, Parlimentary 
Burkesj and itinerant Fanatics with other Demagogues, follow 
the same rules of grammar and composition in their style; and 
follow no rule at all, in the corrupted instinct of their intonation. 

This is our view of some of the objections, made against an 
attempt to teach the Esthetic uses of the voice, by systematic 
and communicable principles. We will not confer importance on 
them by special refutation. In so doing, we should only record 
some vain opinions of this age, which a future one need not know. 
At the present time, let us not be concerned if the history of the 
voice contained in this essay, and the Plan of instruction founded 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 493 

upon it, should be 'either stumbling-block or foolishness,' to the 
groping school of mystagogues and imitators.* 

* In addition to the impossibility of influencing those, who in the present 
age pass for Philosophers and Thinking men, and who assert that Elocution 
cannot be taught by analysis and rule; it is no less hopeless to persuade those 
to learn, who, not quite so impenetrable as the former, only maintain^ it would 
give no return for the trouble. Why should we labor, they ask, to acquire an 
art which when needed will be no more than the spontaneous result of thought 
and passion : or why improve that which some visionary and interested re- 
former tells us, is not well done already? 

This question is so broadly answered by the record of facts in this volume, 
that I shall here merely ilustrate its erroneous supposition, by comparing our 
humble subject of Elocution with the transcending subject of Government: the 
principles of which, equally with those of speech, every one thinks he compre- 
hends by intuition. 

Unlike as these subjects may seem when thus presented together, they have 
through ages, each in its own misguided efforts, shown the same proportion 
of grave pretensions, of unfounded or ill-applied facts, of erudite discussions, 
of indefinite precept, of contradictory practice, and of deplorable failure in its 
boasted promises. Each has had a thousand different and contending schools; 
more than thousands of examples of individual authority; with schools, and 
authorities variously overthrowing one another, and neither able to furnish a 
general principle, or instance, for universal approbation: no Speaker, whether 
by his 'Genius' or his 'Imitation' able to answer the accurate demands of the 
mind and ear: no sovereign Despot or Democratic sovereign, able to satisfy 
the wishes and the wants of the subject or the citizen: and each from a similar 
cause. One has no uniform rule of expression, drawn from nature, for direct- 
ing his speech; the other no uniform or consistent rule of Law, Morality, or 
Religion, to control his conduct. The speaker, ignorant of what is proper or 
elegant in the voice, falls into his 'natural manner,' and disputes himself into 
enmity with the 'natural manner' of another; the Governed, not finding what 
is wise and just, falls into the selfishness of his passions, and brings his differ- 
ence with others to a civil war. The Statesman narrows-down the great pro- 
blem, on the causes and cure of the anti-social vices of pride, vanity, avarice, 
ignorance and ambition, to the futile question of the comparative wisdom and 
the rights of the Many, and of the Few: just as the Elocutionist has narrowed 
the great purpose of the vocal means in nature, by a paltry classification of the 
disciples of the Art, into those of 'Genius' and 'Imitation.' 

But, in artful transformation, the Few in government through pride and 
wealth, assume the power of the Many: and the Many, by falsehood and fraud, 
assume the cunning of the Few. The many in government, are then made to 
beleve, that man is incapable of any other perception, than that of being a 
slave to the Prime management of a Royal Minister, or to the Prime Knavery 
of a self-serving Demagogue. The Many in Elocution are made to beleve, 
they can speak-well, only through the 'Inspiration of Identity,' or the 'natural 
manner' of the School. And bad readers, under the restrictive authority of 



404 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

The preceding history furnishes materials, for raising elocution 
to the condition of a Regular Art, if not of a Science; and we 
must look to the comparisons, and conclusions of taste, for pre- 
cepts to direct the use of these materials. Our history will not 
only afford the means for reducing the arbitrary fashion of the 
voice, to something like that method and rule, to which the other 
fine arts have been already brought, among their educated and 
reflecting votariesj but it opens a new field on the subject of in- 
struction. All arts when reduced to their elements, have been 
recomposed into systematic order for teaching by the Primary 
School of those elements; and it now becomes us to try what 
time may be saved, what old views may be cleared from obscurity, 
and what wider knowledge obtained, by a rudimental plan in de- 
scribing the several modes of the voice, conveying the mental 
states of thought and passion. 

Language was long ago resolved into its alphabetic elements, 
and its Parts of speech. Wherever that analysis is known, the 
art of grammar is with the best success, conducted upon this 
method. If then the thoughtive and expressive uses of the voice 
should be taught by a similar analysis, the advantage would be 
no less, than from the alphabetic and grammatical resolution. 
In this way we teach a child its letters and their union into 
words: surely then, there is no cause why a clear perception of 
the varieties of stress, of time, and of intonation, and the power 
of knowingly employing them in current utterance, should not be 
acquired in a similar elementary manner. 

The art of reading- well consists in having all the constituents 
of speech, both alphabetic and expressive, under complete com- 
mand; to be through Nature's directive instinct, properly ap- 

the Old Elocution; and miserable sufferers, under make shift Monarchies and - 
Republics, are alike led to comfort themselves, respectively in their bad taste, 
and unhappiness, by these similar questions of passive submission : Why should 
we raise the ire of the Old School, with trying to read by the new analysis? 
and why should we disturb a Government by trving to reform it? when the 
Masters of vocal instruction and Imperial and Mass-meeting legislators, them- 
selves so incorrigible, cannot admit, that the art of Speech in one case, and of 
human happiness in the other, is not as perfect under the present order of 
things, as the purposes of knowledge and taste, and the rights of man can ever 
possibly require? 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 495 

plied, for the impressive and elegant representation of every 
state of the mind. I shall not however in this section, consider 
the modes of the voice as expressive of thought or passion: but 
shall describe the means for providing the manageable material of 
speech, whenever thought or passion may require its use. 

If I were a teacher of elocution, I would frame a didactic 
system of elementary exercises, similar to that which taught 
me, whatever the well-read critic may find to be new, in this 
volume ; and would assign my pupil a task under the following 
heads: 

Of Practice on the Alphabetic Elements. Notwithstanding we 
are all taught the alphabet, we are not taught the true elements 
of speech : I would therefore require the pupil, to exercise his 
voice on the elements, as they are sounded in a strict analysis of 
words. In the present school-system of the alphabet, many 
vowels have no peculiar symbol, and nearly all the consonants 
when separately pronounced, are heard as sylables, not as ele- 
ments. If b and k and I, be sounded as respectively heard in 
b-aj, and Jc-mg, and l-ovej or, if we pause after these, several 
initial sounds have escaped the organs, we have the real element, 
instead of the compounds be, bay, and ell, as they are universally 
taught: and the like is true of all the consonants. 

Let the first lesson consist of a separate, an exact, and a re- 
peated pronunciation of each of the thirty-five elements, thereby 
to insure a true and easy execution of their unmingled sounds: 
the pupil being careful to pronounce, not the alphabetic sylable 
of the school, but the pure and indivisible vocal element; however 
unusual and uncouth that sound may in some cases, be to his ear. 
It may be asked^ if a careful pronunciation of words, in which 
these elements, though combined with others, must still be heard, 
would not give the necessary exactness and facility? I beleve it 
would not. When the elements are pronounced singly, they may 
receve an undivided energy of the organic effort, and therewith a 
clearness of sound, and a definite outline, that make a fine pre- 
parative for distinct and forcible pronunciation in the compounds 
of speech. And perhaps ho one who has neglected this elementary 
practice, is able to effect the vocality of b, d, and g, with the 
force, fulness, and duration, required on occasions, for the higher 



496 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

powers and graces of elocution. The efficacy of this separate 
practice, in giving a command over the alphabetic sounds, is most 
remarkable in the r. 

The element r is a modification of the vocality of the subtonics, 
and denotes two different articulations. One is made by a quiet 
application of the tongue to the roof of the mouth; the other by 
its quick percussion against that part. The r produced by the 
first organic position, differs very little from the short tonic e-rr, 
and may be called the Quiet r. That made by percussion, the 
Percussive r. The latter has a distinctness of character and a 
body of sound, not possessed by the former-* and if the metaphor 
can be appreciated, the parts concerned in its formation seem to 
have a firmer grasp of the breath. Yet this Percussive r, even 
with its vigor, and satisfactory fulness, will be agreeable only 
when it consists of one, or at most, two or three strokes and re- 
bounds of the tongue : for should it be a continued vibration, the 
effect will be offensively harsh, if not expressly designed for a 
rough or energetic utterance; but even this should be avoided. 
The perfect r, for the purposes of distinct and impressive speech, 
should consist of a single slap and retraction : and it can be made 
in this manner, by diligent practice, on the solitary element. 

Besides the difficulty of acquiring strength and accuracy in 
this separate pronunciation^ certain combinations of the r, with 
other elements can be effected in an agreeable manner, only by 
assiduity. A subtonic or atonic that employs the tongue in 
one position, will not readily unite with an element, requir- 
ing a quick remove of the tongue to another part of the mouthy 
even when the element is produced, as in the quiet r, by a simple 
pressure of the tongue ; but the difficulty of transition is much 
increased, by the velocity necessary for the percussive r. Let 
us for instance, take the sylabic step from d to r, in the word 
dread. As the formation of d requires the tip of the tongue to 
be applied to the upper fore-teethj should r be taken quietly, the 
confluence of these elements may be easily made, by retracting 
the tongue to the contiguous place for forming the r. When 
however we roughen the word by the percussive r, the tongue is 
brought down from the teeth, towards its bed, in a kind of draw- 
ing-off, for making thereby, a sudden impulse against the roof of 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 497 

the mouth; and it calls for both effort and skill, to accomplish 
these successive movements with that quickness, which sylabic 
coalescence requires. 

There is also considerable difficulty in uniting the percussive 
r with some of the tonics; and the cause is analogous to that 
above described. 

When the percussive r is set before the tonics, the coalescence 
is easy, as in rude, reed : but it is not so when it follows certain 
of these elements. If the tonics are of long quantity, there is in 
some cases, only the slightest difficulty; as in glare, war, far, 
peer, mire, our, your. Should the short-tonics e-rr, e-nd and i-n, 
and most of the other tonics when pronounced short, precede the 
percussive r, there will be the unpleasant effort of a hiatus, to- 
gether with that peculiar effect of a union of tonic and aspiration, 
which forms one of the characteristics of speech in the natives of 
Ireland. This will be perceved, upon pronouncing the following 
words with the percussive r ; interpreter, world, irritate, inter- 
course. The cause of the hiatus and of this inevitable Irishism 
appears in the following explanation. 

The tonic sounds, though in greater part laryngeal, are in 
some cases modified by the agency of the tongue and lips. The 
tongue is employed in varying positions, from the deepest depres- 
sion in its bed, till nearly in contact with the roof of the mouth. 
Its place in the utterance of a-we is the lowest; and the highest 
in ee-\, #-nd and i-n. If these short tonics precede the percussive 
r, there is a hiatus in the utterance, from a difficulty in making 
the percussion ; and this changes the tonic into a semi-aspiration. 
When a-we precedes r, the tongue being in its bed is in the pro- 
per position for making the impulse, and the combination of this 
a-we with the r, is easily effected, and is free from aspiration, as 
in aurelia and reward. 

In the case then, of the short tonics preceding the percussive 
r, it is necessary to bring down the tongue from its short-tonic 
position at the roof of the mouth, to its bedj to give it starting- 
way, so to speak, for gaining its percussive velocity. The aim 
to effect this in the quickest time, produces the hiatus or strained 
effort of pronunciation. Yet with every endeavor, there is still 
a perceptible interval between the change in the position of the 



498 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

tongue, from its short-tonic place down to its bed, and subse- 
quently up to the roof of the mouth, the place of the percussive 
r. And as there is no cessation of vocality during the time of 
the change, the depression of the tongue, or some other cause, 
gives that vocality its aspirated character. This mingling of aspi- 
ration with the short tonic, and the percussive r, produces the 
disagreeable effect perceved in the utterance of these conjoined 
elements; nor can it be altogether avoided, except by using the 
quiet r, where this effect would otherwise occur. 

The difficulty of executing the r, under the circumstances 
above-mentioned, will I fear, be insurmountable to those who are 
not all persuaded^ the perfection of their accomplishments must 
at last be due to their own habits, their knowledge, and their in- 
dustry. Those who know how necessarily a fruitful desire of 
improvement is the result of wise docility of mind and heartfelt 
resolution, have only to learn that it is within the capabilities of 
time and exertion. How long it may take to overcome the dif- 
ficulties here alluded to, must depend on instinctive facility of 
utterance: nor need it be told to those who deserve instruction, 
and will have success. To such persons^ it is enough that it may 
be done. 

An exact pronunciation of the elements according to the rule 
of the clay, is a matter of importance, not with reference alone 
to the law of fashion. It has a claim of greater dignity. 

When thoughts are to be communicated with precision and 
force, it should be by well-known words, not peculiar in sound, 
nor striking by length, nor by difficult utterance. There should 
be no remarkable contrast between them ; no attractive and dis- 
turbing similarity; nor anything in the language, to allure atten- 
tion from the thought conveyed by it. A writer, who frequently 
employs uncommon words, except in technical instruction, never 
has vividness or strength of style. For the accomplishment of 
these objects, sounds should slip effectively into the mind, almost 
without the notice of the ear. And what is here said, on the dis- 
tractions produced by novelty and peculiarity of words, applies 
equally to the pronunciation of alphabetic elements; as the least 
deviation from the assumed standard, converts the listener into a 
critic: and it is perhaps speaking within bounds to say, that for 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 499 

every miscalled element in discourse, ten succeding words, if not 
more, are lost to the critical and reflective part of an audience. 
I have therefore recommended a long-continued practice on the 
separate elements-* for acquiring that command over them, which 
not only contributes to the elegance of speech, but at the same 
time, may help to remove all obscurity from the vocal picture of 
thought and passion. 

Of Practice on the Time of Elements. Enough has been said 
in former pages, on the necessity of a full command over the time 
of utterancej for effecting the important purposes of elocution. 

When the pupil has acquired a true pronunciation of the ele- 
ments, he should not, according to the usage of the primer, pass 
at once to combine them into words. They are employed in 
speech under different degrees of duration; and an exercise of 
the voice, through these degrees, on individual elements, creates 
a habit of skilful management, not so well nor so easily acquired 
by practice on the common current of discourse. Let the pupil 
then consider the alphabetic elements as a kind of Time-table, on 
which he is to learn all their varieties of quantity. The power of 
giving well measured length to sylables is so rare among speak- 
ers, that I have been induced to draw especial attention to this 
elementary method of instruction. 

Although a prolongation of the atonies is of little consequence^ 
let the pupil reiterate his practice on the tonics and subtonics, 
until he finds himself possessed of such a command over them, 
that he may at will, give the quantity to their sylabic combina- 
tions. 

The elements 5, d, and g, admitting of only a slight variation 
of quantity, through the prolongation of their feeble vocalityj a 
strenuous practice on their individual sounds is necessary to 
render them applicable to the purposes of oratorical time. 

When r is to be prolonged, and the rapid iteration would be 
inappropriate, the quiet form of the element should be employed ; 
the percussive r, made by a single stroke and rebound of the 
tongue, being necessarily short. 

The element s, when alone and prolonged, is a sign of con- 
tempt. In sylabic combination it is offensive if much extended 
in quantity; under its shortest time, it still performs its part in 



500 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

speech, and loses much of the character of the hiss. Let the 
pupil therefore practice the shortest quantity on this element, by 
abruptly terminating the breath, or by separating the teeth at the 
moment its sound is heard; for this at once cuts it short. Here 
is not the place to remark how carefully a repetition of this element 
in succeding words, particularly if emphatic, is to be avoided. 

Of Practice on the Vanishing Movement. This subject should 
perhaps, have been considered under the last head; for an at- 
tempt to prolong the elements without reference to the equable 
concrete of speech, is very apt to produce the note of song. The 
difference between these two forms of intonation even on a single 
tonic, will be perceptible to an experimental ear, by keeping in 
mind at the moment of trial, the well known and peculiar effect 
both of speech and of song. The pupil then, without confusing 
his ear by other particulars, should exercise his voice on the 
simple form of the radical and vanish, through all extendible 
elements. An unerring power in executing this function, how- 
ever long the quantity may be, will always insure to speech, an 
entire exemption from the protracted radical. 

In this elementary intonation of the equable concrete, atten- 
tion should be paid to the structure, of the vanish. The pupil 
must therefore endeavor to give it that delicate expiration which 
may render the point of its limit almost imperceptible: for this is 
its proper form, except some purpose of expression should require 
a more obvious demarkation. We often lean the ear in delight, 
over this smooth breathing of sound into silence, by singers; and 
the master in elocution shall hereafter know, that one of those 
4 graces' which he could never name, and even thought 'beyond 
the reach of artj' but which Art conjoined with Science, is now 
ready to teach him^ consists in this attenuation and close of 
the sylabic impulse, here recommended as a lesson for the school- 
boy. 

Of Practice on Force. It is scarcely necessary to say how 
loudness of voice, or the forte, is to be acquired. It is not es- 
sential to our discipline, that the elements should be uttered 
separately with regard to force. When the other constituents of 
expressive speech are brought under command, exercise on this 
mode may be effected during the current of discourse. Still the 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 501 

ends of instruction would be somewhat easier attained by the 
elementary process in this particular. Few persons perceve 
the influence that loud speaking or vociferation has on vocality. 
We have already learnedj.it is one of the means for acquiring the 
orotund. It takes the voice apparently, from its meager mincing 
about the lips, and transfers it, at least in semblance, to the back 
of the mouth, or to the throat. It imparts a grave fulness to its 
character; and by creating a strength of organ, gives confidence 
to the speaker in his more forcible efforts; and an unhesitating 
facility in all the moderate exertions of speech. 

Of Practice on Stress. Although the elementary exercise on 
force as a general rule, may not be necessary, I must urge its im- 
portance, in particular sylabic stress. There is a nicety in this 
matter, that will be definitely recognized, and consequently can 
become familiar, only through the deliberate practice and un- 
embarrassed observation, afforded by trials on the separate ele- 
ments. 

It was said formerly, that radical stress is made with emphatic 
strength only on the tonics; still, an attempt to apply it to the 
subtonics is not to be entirely neglected. The full power of 
radical abruptness in the tonics is effected, by opening the ele- 
ments into utterance, with a sort of coughing explosion. The 
pupil cannot be too strongly urged to a careful practice, on this 
subject; that he may thereby acquire the habit of giving abrupt- 
ness, instantly and with moderated force. In this, its peculiar 
character as a Mode of the voice is apparent, and its classification 
defensiblej in making a satisfactory impulse on the ear, without 
the hammering strokes of an uncultivated pronunciation. For 
this fault of reading lies not only in the repetition or current of 
a sharp and loud radical stress on every word, but that stress is 
sometimes carried into the concrete, if not through it, on accented 
sylables of moderate quantity. 

For the median stress or swell, no particular direction is re- 
quired under this head. It is generally employed on the wave, 
and its practice may therefore be connected with exercise on 
pitch. 

The vanishing stress may be practiced, by assuming in speech 
something like the effort of hiccup for the wider intervals of the 



502 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

scale; and something like sobbing, for the minor third and semi- 
tone. We do not recommend practice on the minor third, with 
reference to its allowable use in speech; but to render it so 
familiar to the ear, that it may be avoided as a fault. Elementary 
exercise on Compound stress, and the Loud Concrete, will give 
facility in the command of these forms of Force. Practice on 
Thorough stress, with a strict comparison of its effect, on long 
quantity, with the effect of the equable concrete, is here recom- 
mended, that the pupil may by his own knowledge, perception of 
propriety, and taste, rather than by any authority of mine, be 
guarded against this vocal sign of phlegmatic rudeness. 

Of Practice on Pitch. The several scales used in speech were 
described in the first section. The order of proximate intervals 
in the diatonic, and the skip of its wider transitions, must be 
learned from an instrument, or the voice. With a few days' at- 
tention to the effect of the various rising and falling movements, 
on the keys of a piano-forte, or in the voice of a master, a pupil 
who has the least musical ear, will be able to execute the same 
successions in his voice, and to recognize the concrete pitch, and 
change of radical, on elemental and sylabic utterance. 

After this first lesson, let every interval of pitch, both by con- 
crete movement and by radical change, be practiced on every 
tonic and subtonic element. The semitone is easily recognized in 
a plaintive intonation : and when exercised on all the elements 
will readily become obedient to the states of mind requiring its 
expression. 

The effect of the simple and uncolored interval of the second 
must be negatively described by sayingj it is not the semitone, 
with its plaintive character; nor the rising third, or fifth, or 
octave, also well known as the sign of interrogation; nor the 
downward movements of positive declaration and command; nor 
the wave, with its admiration, surprise, mockery and sneer. If 
then, in sylabic utterance, none of these effects are produced, 
it may be concludedj the voice has passed through the simple 
second of the diatonic melody. By practice on this interval, 
through all the tonics and subtonics, the pupil will attain a com- 
mand over the constituent of this plain intonation; nor will he 
be in danger of destroying its appropriate character by the 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 503 

whine of the semitone, the sharp inquisitiveness of the fifth or 
octave, or with the more offensive affectation of the wider forms 
of the wave. 

The pupil will be able to recognize a downward interval, by 
familiarizing his ear to the effect of the last constituent of the 
triad of the cadence. This will teach him the character of the 
falling second ; and by studiously repeating the tonic and sub- 
tonic elements in this movement, he will have nearly as clear a 
perception of the peculiarity of the interval, as of the sounds of 
the elements themselves. When prepared with this downward 
vanish, he may contrast it with the rising second, and thereby 
become familiar with the audible character of each. Upon know- 
ing the second, the wider falling intervals will be perceved by 
continuing the doivnward progress, till the intonation assumes the 
expression of command; the extent of the downward movement 
through a third, or fifth, or octave, being proportional to the 
less or greater degree of that expression. Let these wider in- 
tervals be compared with those of a rising direction, and the 
difference between the intonation of a question, and a command, 
will be strikingly manifest. 

When the pupil has gone through the elements, on the simple 
rising and falling intervals, let him turn to their combination, in 
the wave. Here his practice must be governed by his perception 
of the simple intervals which variously compose its different 
kinds. The wave of the second is of great importance, in the 
grave and dignified character of the diatonic melody. I cannot 
by direct description, bring it before the ear; but in giving pro- 
longed quantity to indefinite sylables, if the effect of the upward 
or downward wider intervals is not recognizedj nor the peculiar 
note of songj nor the marked impression of the wider wavesj nor 
that of the. plaintive semitone^ it may be concluded, the voice is 
moving in the wave of the second. 

Of Practice on Melody. One difficult point regarding intona- 
tion is the perception of the radical changes of the second, in the 
progression of the current melody. If the pupil has a musical 
ear, he may easily acquire the habit of varying the several 
phrases in the manner formerly proposed. Should he not have a 
nice perception of sound, nor ingenuity in experiment, he must 



504 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

learn the diatonic progression from the voice of a previously- 
instructed master. 

Melody is a continuous function; practice under this head must 
therefore be made on successive sylables. The best method is to 
select a portion of discourse, to keep in mind the diatonic man- 
ner in which it should be read, and at the same time, to utter 
only the tonic element of each sylable; and by a sort of vocal 
short-hand, or instant hackings of a momentary cough, to go 
through this dotted outline as it were, of the melody. In this 
case, the ear not being embarrassed by the subtonics, the differ- 
ence between rise and fall in radical pitch, will be more apparent, 
and consequently the power of avoiding monotony, and of min- 
gling all the phrases in an agreeable variety, more easily attained. 

Of Practice on the Cadence. The cadence is an important- 
part of the melody of speech; and readers being therein liable 
to frequent and striking faults, the subject requires discrimina- 
tive attention. Here particularly the elementary practice is to 
be employed; the pupil bearing in mind the different forms of 
intonation for terminating a sentence, and exercising his voice 
separately on one, two, or three elements or sylables, considered 
as a close. 

By elementary practice on the various species of the cadencej 
command over their intonation will be exercised, with a percep- 
tible accuracy, never yet within the incoherent purpose of any 
ancient or modern system of Imitative discipline; for many of 
these purposes were only dreams. After the proper time devoted 
to the plan here recommended, the pupil will be provided with an 
ample fund for every variety in his periods; nor will he then find 
himself at the end of his sentence, with a sylable that seems to 
have got out-of-joint with its intonation. 

Of Practice on the Tremor. The tremulous movement should 
be practiced on individual elements. "With a knowledge of its 
various forms, the pupil may correct himself in his task, and 
finally acquire the accuracy, so essential to this remarkable ex- 
pression. And although the habit of laughing and crying does 
here furnish a wide field of practice, it is to be recolectedj we 
laugh and cry instinctively, upon our own delight and suffering. 
When the tremulous expression is employed to affect an audience, 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 505 

governed in its tastej as it may come to pass hereafter, by the 
knowledge and principles we are here unfolding^ it should be 
done, not only according to the dictates of Nature, and within 
the iluminated circle of her truth, but with that refinement, and 
finish of execution, which her incipient instinct may not have had 
the purpose to accomplish; while yet ready to acknowledge their 
entire consistency with her prospective and progressive laws. 

Of Practice on Vocality. Vocality is capable of improvement ; 
and the practice in this case may be either on the elements, or 
on the current of discourse. Yet as this mode of the voice is 
most perceptible on the tonic sound, perhaps the elementary les- 
son is the best for instruction. In whatever manner the improv- 
ing exercise is conducted^ by it, harshness may be somewhat 
softened^ a husky voice be brought nearer to pure vocalityj the 
piercing treble reduced in pitchj and the thin and meager voice 
indued with greater fulness and strength. 

There is, however, a misconception on this subject, which may 
be noticed here. 

The characteristic Vocalities, or, as confounded with Pitch, 
and vaguely called, the distinguishing 'tones,' of the voice, are 
said to be unlimited, and like the face, peculiar to each individual. 
We do not often forget or confound the known voices of indi- 
viduals, however numerous they may be; a popular proof, that 
we all have an instinctive and discriminative ear, for the things 
of Speech, without having names for them. But the distinct re- 
cognition is here made upon combinations of the specific degrees, 
and 'forms of force, pitch, and time, rather than on the single 
mode of vocality. One speaker is characterized by a constant 
use of the vanishing stress ; another by that of the radical; one 
employs the interval of a third in the current melody instead of 
a second; some a long, and others a short quantity on every 
emphatic word. By a varied permutation of these features, a 
countless number of different, yet distinguishable faces, is given 
to the body of speech. And here, as a comment on the prevalent 
notion, that speech with its 'occult qualities,' is too subtle, imma- 
terial, or, to use the Platonic 'slang' of the nineteenth century, 
too 'spiritual,' to be made a subject of physical investigation^ 
33 



506 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

let us remark, that all th^se faces, features, aye, and delicate 
expressions of speech are practically conizable by common per- 
ception. 

There is as great a variety in vocality, as in any one mode of 
the voice; and more than of some ; the amount however, falls far 
short of the almost endless combinations of the various forms of 
the Modes with each other. 

We may learn that vocality is not always its distinguishing 
mark; by attending to the prolonged note of song; for this makes 
it more obvious. In perceving a prolonged note, exclusive of 
any peculiarity of stress, time, or intonation, it is not easy 
to distinguish voices, that widely differ when heard under the 
mingling modes of speech, in only a single sentence. Of the 
speaking voices of a thousand persons, each would be distin- 
guishable, by its peculiar manner of using the various permuted 
forms of pitch, time, and stress. If the same voices were sev- 
erally to be indicated by a single prolonged note of song, the 
differences in vocality might be reduced to a few classes. There 
would be forte and piano voices heard among them, shrill and 
hoarse, clear, aspirated, harsh, full, meager, dull, and sub-so- 
norous: and to these a few others might be added. Yet even 
these would, in some cases, be perceptible only to a cultivated 
ear; and of the whole thousand, above supposed, perhaps not 
more than twenty classes of vocality, as subjects of recognition 
could be found, to constitute twenty different kinds. 

Of the Orotund as a kind of voice, we spoke in a former sec- 
tion; and there described the means by which the fulness, power, 
and graver character of this voice may be attained. It might per- 
haps assist the Reader in using the proper means for acquiring the 
orotund, to know, that the vocality in this case, is apt to change 
into what we formerly called the basso-falsette; producing that 
'double-lung' kind of speech, of mingled bass and treble. 

Of Practice in Rapidity of Speech. Extreme rapidity of speech 
may be employed for attaining command over the voice. The 
difficulty, of making transitions from one position of the organs 
of articulation to another, requires an exertion which tends to 
increase their strength and activity; and this enables them to 
execute the usual time of speech, without hesitation. I would 






THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 507 

recommend the utmost possible precipitancy of utterance; taking 
care not to outrun the complete .articulation of every element; 
and this makes it advisable to set the lesson on some discourse, 
long fixed in the memory, that no embarrassment may arise from 
the distracting effort of recolection. 

There is not much advantage to be derived from elementary 
practice on Aspiration, the Emphatic vocule, and Guttural vibra- 
tion. The exact and forcible execution of these functions, does 
not require the exclusive attention, directed by the rudimental 
system of practice; nor is anything to be effected thereby, that 
may not perhaps, for all practical and tasteful purposes, be ac- 
complished in the current of discourse. 



This is a brief enumeration of the articulative, the thoughtive, 
and the expressive constituents of the whole assemblage of speech. 
An interesting inquiry isj whether we should aim to acquire a full 
power over these constituents, by exercising the voice on their 
combinations, in current discourse, or by separate and repeated 
practice on their individual forms. * 

* Perhaps the analogy would be too remote, to draw an example of the ele- 
mentary and synthetic method of instruction, from the gradual process of in- 
fant speech. But I cannot, while the subject is before me, avoid a few remarks, 
on what appears to be the order of that process. 

Although we should reject every, fictional date, and they are all fictional^ for 
the origin of language; and every supposition of one or of many parts of the 
earth as well as of the manner, in*which it did begins still the succession in the 
instinctive efforts of present infant speech is freely open to investigation. 

In a Note to our section on Time, there is a passing question^ Whether the 
abrupt elements were not prompted by sudden instinctive impulses, at that 
almost inconceivable event, the beginning of speech. Since the date of our 
fourth edition in eighteen hundred and fifty- five, I have read in the Introduc- 
tion to Mr. Charles Richardson's Etymological Dictionary, the clear exempli- 
fication of his analytically tracing many of the full-formed words of cultivated 
language, to roots of a primary meaning in the individual elements: and not- 
withstanding the philological Ethnologist, and the writers on the Mind have 
not had the curiosity or time, to learn how far our history of the voice might 
assist their researches, I will still endeavor to draw their attention, by apply- 



508 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

It is needless to offer arguments in favor of an elementary- 
didactic system to those, who, from experience in acquiring the 

ing some of the principles of nature to the present fashionable inquiry into the 
origin ami language of man. 

It is known, that, in the full-established system of the vocal signs, the states 
of mind variously employ the modes of yocality, force, time, abruptness and 
intonation; and that the first audible efforts of infant-expression are purely 
vowel sounds, under the forms of cry, scream, and of fainter vocalities called 
humming and cooing; together with a varied time, force, and intonation of 
these sounds, and even of their sudden break into abruptness. These vowel 
signs, as well as Ave observe, denote the first perception of pleasure or pain or 
of physical wants. So far then, these individual elements have a meaning, and 
are the real and simple roots of language, in the signs of infant perception^ for 
we cannot give the then state of mind the name of thought or passion. The 
consonants next follow, in the progress of speech ; and still to found the origin 
of language in nature, certain instinctive muscular functions prepare the vocal 
mechanism for the production of. these elements. The early act of drawing 
nourishment strongly exercises the muscles that close and open the lips; and 
furnishes the organic means, which with the accompaniment of vocality, or 
aspiration^ already prepared by instinctive effort^ produce in the former case, 
the elements B, M, and V, and in the latter, F, and P. In the same act the 
application of the tongue to the palate, and to the upper and the lower gums, 
constitutes the mechanism, that with vocality, or with aspiration, severally 
forms G, K, D, T, N, R, Th-in, and Th-en. 

The next instinctive-elemental and significant sign would perhaps be the in- 
cipient tremor on the interval of the tone or second, or wider interval, for the 
expression of infantile satisfaction; and sobbing, with the tremor on the semi- 
tone for distress. Coughing would early give a command over abruptness, and 
prepare for the radical stress, and distinct articulation of perfect speech. We 
do not assume that single consonants are at first, mental signs; nor afterwards, 
except in the expressive aspirations of s, and h; and as it would be stepping 
aside from the caution of philosophy to suppose, that in some infantile efforts 
they may be so, we leave this subject for those who think it deserves stricter 
investigation. The instinctive vowels with their intonations are the first signs 
of the pleasures, pains, and wants of the child: and observation teaches^ they 
denote these perceptions, as certainly as they can be denoted by the full-formed 
words of conventional language. 

There is a further addition to primary speech, when the consonants are acci- 
dentally combined with vowels, into the sylabic impulse; as in Ap and Am, or 
reversely, Pa and Ma. The sense of hearing then becomes observant: imita- 
tion follows, and monosylabic language with its capacity for endless combina- 
tion into words of varied extent begins. 

It may therefore seem, that by Mr. Richardson's observations, the ultimate 
roots of languages are the significant elements. Under this view, the roots of 
all languages must have a common origin; displaying the unity of nature, not 
only in the prevalence of the same principles of articulation and of vocal ex- 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 509 

sciences, have formed for themselves economical and effective 
plans of study. Let all others be toldj that one, and perhaps 
the only cause why elocutionists have never employed such a sys- 
tem, is, that they have overlooked the analytic means of inquiry 
into the subject of vocal expression; and have therefore wanted 
both the knowledge and nomenclature for an elementary method 
of instruction. Science and art have too many proofs of the 
success of this rudimental method, to allow us to suppose, the 
same means would not have been adopted in elocution, if they had 
been known to the master. 

Not to cite instances from those graver studies which procede 
by the synthetic steps of elementary principles; and with no in- 
tention to shame the 'genius' of an elocutionist and his grammar 
of imitation, let us go to the Ring, and see the Science of mus- 
cular attack and defense, an over-match for flhe best efforts of 
strength and passion, when undirected by gymnastic skill. The 
'Fancy' have really made no slang-like or degrading application 
of the word. Science, as we usefully regard it, does no more 
than lay-down for art, those general principles, and efficacious 
rules which sagacity has drawn from observation and trial: and 
though it may not always ennoble the subject it touches, it does 
'keep from it, that characteristic of brutality* the instinctive ex- 
ecution of what, in its causes and effects, is not perceved by the 
agent, Yes, even the Pugilistic Art, low in purpose yet skilful 
as it is, has for the time, outstripped the philosophic efforts of 
Elocution; and claimed for its method and precepts, the justifi- 
able name of Science. And beleve me, Reader^ the elementary 
training in its positions and motions, carries not more superiority 
over the untaught arm, than the definite rules of elocution, 
founded on a knowledge of the constituents of the voice, will 
have over the best spontaneous achievements of passion. 

pression, in every age and nation, as we have after close analysis, represented 
it^ but in the origin of that articulation, and expression, in whatever part or 
parts of the earthy or in whatever age or ages it may once or oftener, have 
occurred. Should future observation confirm Mr. Richardson's view, and the 
few remarks we have added to it, it will be learned, that the five modes of the 
voice, which combine to make the vast variety of mature and expressive lan- 
guage^ are found in limited use, to constitute what on like principle we may call 
ihe incipient expression of infant wants, and pleasure or pain. 



510 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

Let me not be mistaken on this point. Although I do not 
say, the method of instruction here proposed, can create the 
essential powers of a speaker; futurity will probably show, that 
some such system alone can direct, enlarge, and perfect them. 
'Passion,' says a writer, 'knows more than art.' It may, in its 
own way, know more than the Old Elocutionary art; but the 
Art of Science, so to speak, in its own way, like prudence in 
human affairs, sometimes knows better than passion. A display 
of the passions in speech, is not always addressed to persons 
under the sympathetic influence of those passions. When it is, 
or when at moments, the speaker can raise that sympathy, and 
passion becomes the selfigh party-Tyrant of the mind, all is right, 
however wrong, that passion does. When passion is no longer 
the despot either of words oy will, and we are called upon to 
make some proper use of its active 'perception, without its way- 
wardness and partizan excesses, such comparisons arise between 
our own state, on occasions of excitement, and what w r e perceve 
in othersj that we are obliged to call upon observation and taste 
for some educational rule, of Things as they Should be> to settle 
an uncertainty of opinion. Passion as we know it, is only the 
Enacting of a certain character of expression; and being with 
none, except fools and madmen, an Outlaw of the Mind, is still 
amenable to its purposed and directive, though excited authority. 
We need not go far, for the true history of what is called the 
Natural Manner in Speech, prompted by spontaneous and un- 
educated passion; for passion is a wise instinct of nature, but is 
always perverted, if never improvingly taught. The everyday 
vulgar triumphs of popular eloquence, in which the demagogue, 
and the sectary, lead away an audience, eager to pursue the same 
selfish schemes of profit, or vanity, or fanatical delusion, are 
proof of what this oratorical sympathy is; and what a wild and 
artful passion alone can sometimes do, without the aid of truth, 
or honesty or taste: for in these as in other popular relations, 
the more an orator influences the passions of others, the more 
those passions make a slave of himself. 

We look for no more, from a well devised practical system of 
elocution, than we are every day receving from established arts. 
All men speak and 'reason,' in the common way, for these acts 



THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 511 

are as natural as passion ; but the arts of grammar, rhetoric, 
and thinking teach us to do these things in the best manner, or 
rather, doing them in the best manner is signified by the name of 
these arts. 

The subject of elementary instruction may be otherwise re- 
garded. The human muscles are, at the daily call of exercise, 
obedient to the will. There is scarcely a boy of physical activity 
or enterprise, who on seeing a circus-rider, does not desire, in 
some way to imitate him ; to catch and keep the center of gravity 
through the varieties of balance and motion. Yet this will not 
prevent failure in his first attempts, however close the connection 
between his will and his muscles may be. For without trial, he 
knows imperfectly what is to be done; and even with that knowl- 
edge, is unable, without long practice, to effect it. Many persons, 
with both thought and passion, have a free command of the voice, 
on the common occasions of life, who yet utterly fail, when they 
attempt to imitate the varied power of the habitual speaker. 
When the voice is prepared by elementary practice^ thoughts and 
passions find the confirmed and pliant means, ready to effect a 
satisfactory and elegant accomplishment of their purposes. 

The organs of speech are capable of a certain range of exer- 
tion; and to fulfil all the demands of a finished elocution, they 
should be carried to the extent of that capability. Actors with 
both strong and delicate perceptions, and who earnestly express 
them in speech, are always approximating toward this power in 
the voice ; and with no more than the assistance of a habitual 
exercise which enlarges their instinct, do in time, acquire a com- 
mand over the forms and degrees of pitch, and stress, and time; 
without the Actor himself being at all aware of the hoiv, and the 
ivhat, of his vocal attainments, or having perhaps, one inteligent, 
or inteligible perception of the ways, means, and effects of their 
application. The elementary method of instruction here pro- 
posed, being founded on the analysis of speechj at once points out 
to the Actor what is to be desired and attained; and how every 
vocal purpose of thought, and passion should be fulfiled. 

It was not until long after the invention of the Bow for the 
gliding touch of chorded instruments, that its use was subjected 
to accurate attention. A few belonging to that class of man- 



512 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

kind who through precise and enlarged observation, with its 
steady aim, find out for themselves, the best way to effect their 
object, may have exhibited rare instances of skill in its manage- 
ment. As soon however as the celebrated Tartini had made an 
analysis of their dexterity, the master was able to point out to 
the pupil the muscular sleight of wrist and arm which its hand- 
ling requires; their combined and successive motions; together 
with that full perception of the will as it seems, present in the 
muscle, which insures undeviating steadiness in every sweep, and 
gives the power of a sort of voluntary spasm for the purpose of a 
momentary touch. When these points were ascertained, instruc- 
tion began to adopt the economy of elementary rules; and con- 
fidence, rapidity, precision, smoothness, and variety of execution, 
became common accomplishments in the art of Bowing. 

When an attempt is made to teach an art, without commencing 
with its simple elements, combinations of elements pass with the 
pupil for the elements themselves, and holding them to be almost 
infinite, he abandons his hopeless task. An education by the 
method we here recommend, reverses this disheartening duty. 
It reduces the seeming infinity to computable numbers; and I 
have supposed^ one of the first comments on the foregoing analysis, 
may refer to the unexpected simplicity of means, employed to 
produce the unbounded permutations of speech. Nay, this essay 
itself will fare better than other similar efforts in science, if some 
of the perishing criticism of the day should not find sufficient 
motive with itself, for overlooking the difficulty, of penetrating 
the mysterious thicket of speech, and of tracing its interwoven 
branches to their palpable roots, by being told how few and how 
accessible they are. 

In our proposed method of instruction, we have in view the 
strictest propriety, and the highest finish of the voice. An ordi- 
nary and even vicious use of Speech, as we all know, may serve 
for Buying and Selling, either in the common course of Trade, 
or in Election-Frauds, and Legislative Bribery. When the powers 
and beauties of the voice are the subject of reflection and taste, it 
is necessary to employ the most comprehensive and precise means 
for its cultivation. It would be possible, even without regard to 
the alphabet, to teach a savage to read, by directing him, word 






THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 513 

by word, to follow a master. And it has been proposed to teach 
elocution, by a similar process of imitative instruction. But the 
attentive Reader must now know with me, and others may know 
among themselves hereafter, that the analysis of words into their 
alphabetic elements, and the rudimental method of teaching in- 
stituted thereupon, do not give more facility, in the discrimina- 
tions of the eye on a written page, than the means here proposed 
will afford to the student of elocution, who wishes to excel in all 
the useful and elegant purposes of speech. The master having 
now at command a knowledge of the vocal constituents^ which 
already foretells, and by future application will furnish a precise 
and universal system of mus'ic in speech-; let him adopt that ele- 
mentary method of instruction which has made another music 
familiar to the minds of children, and spread its refined and 
heart-felt pleasure throughout the civilized world. 

To begin this elementary, and only successful method of teach- 
ing the otherwise unteachable esthetic art of speechj let the 
master and his pupil, or his whole school, meet at first, without 
their little text-books; the master having already the great Book 
of Nature by heart. Let the master then exemplify the five 
constituent modes of the voice; the formation of the musical 
scale, with the explanation of its divisions and uses; the four 
scales of speech; the concrete and discrete pitch in all its forms; 
the graceful gliding of the vanish, with the effect of the second 
and of other intervals. Let him make the pupil sensible of the 
difference of these intervals by separate and by compared utter- 
ance; of the peculiarities of a rising and of a falling movement; 
of the waves; of the diatonic, and the chromatic melodies; of the 
cadences; and of the ^tresses; making the lessons an exemplifi- 
cation of every constituent function of speech. Let the pupil 
practice all this when he retires; and on returning, let it not be 
to hear his master read, and vainly try to imitate himj but to re- 
peat his elementary task, through all the available modes, forms, 
and varieties of the voice. When he is completely familiar with 
these rudiments, then and not before, let him begin to read. 

Should high accomplishment in elocution be an object of am- 
bition, the system of instruction offered in this section, may until 



514 THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

a better method is proposed, furnish the easiest and shortest 
means for success. 

With all these rules however, the best contrived scheme will be of 
little avail, without the utmost zeal and perseverance on the part 
of the learner. It is an impressive saying by an elegant 'genius' 
of the Augustan age, who drew his maxim from the Greek Tragedy, 
and ilustrated it by his own life and fame, that 'nothing is given 
to mortals without indefatigable labor;' meanings that works of 
surpassing merit, and supposed to procede from a peculiar en- 
dowment by Heaven, are in reality, the product of hard and 
unremitting industry. 

It is pitiable to witness the hop'es and conceits of ambition, 
when unassisted by its required exertions. The art of reading- 
well is an accomplishment; all desire to possess, many think they 
have already, and a few undertake to acquire. These, beleving 
their power is altogether in their 'Genius,' are, after a few les- 
sons from an Elocutionist, disappointed at not becoming them- 
selves at once masters of the art; and with the restless vanity of 
their belief, abandon the study, for some new subject of trial and 
failure. Such cases of infirmity result in part from the wavering 
character of the human Tribe; but chiefly, from defects in the 
usual course of instruction. Go to some, may we say all of our 
Colleges and Universities, and observe how the art of speaking, 
is not taught there. See a boy of but fifteen years, with no want 
of youthful diffidence, and not without a craving desire to learn; 
sent upon a Stage, pale and choking with apprehension; being 
forced into an attempt to do that, without instruction, which he 
came purposely to learn; and furnishing amusement to his class- 
mates, by a pardonable awkwardness, that should be punished, in 
the person of his pretending but neglectful preceptor, with little 
less than scourging. Then visit a Conservatorio of music; ob- 
serve there, the elementary outset, the orderly task, the masterly 
discipline, the unwearied superintendence, and the incessant toil 
to reach the utmost accomplishment in the Singing-Voice; and 
afterwards do not be surprised that the pulpit, the senate, the 
bar, and the chair of medical professorship, are filled with such 
abominable drawlers, mouthers, mumblers, clutterers, squeakers, 
chanters, and mongers in monotony: nor that the schools of 



THE MEANS OP INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 515 

Singing are constantly sending abroad those great instances of 
vocal wonder, who triumph along the crowded resorts of the 
world; who contribute to the halls of fashion and wealth, their 
most refined source of gratification ; who sometimes quell the 
pride of rank, by a momentary sensation of envy; and who .draw 
forth the admiration, and receve the crowning applause of the 
Prince and the Stage.* 

* It is remarkable of the Science of the Voice, that the successful cultivation 
of the department of Song, through the close and beautiful analysis of melody, 
and harmony, should never have extended the ambition of its inquiry and suc- 
cess, into the more important, and equally esthetic department of speech. 

Having, after a long and active search, colected quite a library of good, bad, 
and indifferent works on elocution; and, with the exception of Mr. Steele, Mr. 
Odel, and Mr. Walker, finding them all, both ancient and modern, to be com- 
posed of the same common materials of the art, arranged and detailed with a 
varied ability: I had some curiosity to know the practical method of eminent 
Vocal Institutions. During my residence in Paris, through the winter of eighteen 
hundred and forty-five — six, I sought by every due effort, to obtain from direct, 
and personal observation, a knowledge of the instructive Course of Declamation 
employed in the Conservatorio. I learned however, through a friend of some 
influence in this matter, that by a general rule, admission could not be ob- 
tained. 

Upon information derived from a Vocalist, at that time under tuition, for his 
appearance in the Opera^ who described to me, the directive, and examplary 
means of the master, the imitative practice of the pupil, and the detailed rotine 
of the task; I was led to conclude^ they had no knowledge, out of the common 
way, on the construction, and intonative meaning, either of Declamation or 
Recitative; nor one spark of a Philosophy of Speech, to throw the least light of 
explanation upon them: and though the exclusion of visitors, might be no de- 
privation to the studious observer^ the duties of the Institution would by this 
precaution, be saved from the vexatious intrusion of the tens of thousands idle, 
restless, and ennui'd Sojourners in the great Metropolis. 

That the French, like the rest of the world, have not the least perception of 
a system of the voice, founded on the ordination of nature, and denoting the 
different states of mind in thought and passion, must appear from their Histri- 
onic Elocution. If the Glory, Wisdom and Taste of France, strangely con- 
centered, as it is thought to be in Paris, should ever acknowledge the possibility 
of there being any imperfection in its state; and cease to think, it has already 
reached ' the highest degree of civilization;' it will perhaps, perceve the peculiar 
and bombastic system of its intonation ; and then attempt to correct it, by some 
other means, than that of the rule of its own exaggerated and habitual expres- 
sion. The English, phlegmatic as they are supposed to be, are prone to employ 
an over-proportion of vivid constituents in that current which should be a plain 
diatonic melody. But the French, far exceding them in this use of the wider 



516 RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 



SECTION L. 

Of the Rythmus of Speech. 

In the section on Time, some allusion was made to the subject 
of Rythmus. I there endeavored to describe the circumstances 
under which stress and time, or as they are otherwise called, 
accent and quantity, produce by their alternations the agreeable 

intervals and waves, do not employ the diatonic melody, or only occasionally, 
in their oratorical and dramatic speech. 

We have learned how rarely the plain and dignified forms of the second 
and its waves are heard even in the speech of the English stage; and that, 
without an adjusted intermingling of the expressive and the inexpressive con- 
stituents of speech, no Actor can attain tragic distinction, or long maintain it, 
with an audience of educated perception and taste. In this improper use 
of wider intervals and waves, the English, from the construction of their 
Language, have less apology than the French, for the excesses of their intona- 
tion. It is well known, that the accentual character of the English language 
consists in a forcible stress on certain sylables, with a feeble stress on others^ 
the latter being more numerous; and the difference in degree of the stresses 
being so fixed and remarkable, as to furnish a rythmus of accent or quantity 
for the construction of its Blank-verse; which serves the further purpose of re- 
leving the monotony of its rhyme, by the variety of a strong and attractive 
accent, successively falling on a different s,ylabic sound, and by the cesural 
pause, in the course of the line. 

With the French language the case is different. It has a perceptible variation, 
in the force of its accents, and the duration of its quantities: but not suffici- 
ently marked, nor of such a systematic character, as to make an available pro- 
sodial meter. The French Epic and Dramatic lines, for they cannot be called 
prosodial measures, properly consist each of twelve sylables; though they have 
sometimes ten or eleven. Among them is occasionally found, a succession of 
accent and quantity resembling the various structures of English verse. There 
is an example of our anapestic measure, in the first Canto and second line of 
Voltaire's llenriade, 

Et par droit de conqudte et par droit de naissance. 

Allowing for the manner of the French, in prolonging their sylables, many 
like correspondencies to the usual English measures may be gathered from what 
they call their heroic rhyme. 

But all such cases are accidental in French versification, and do not accord 
with the general character of its irregular succession: a succession, shocking 



RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 517 

impressions of verse. I now offer a more formal account of this 
matter, with the design to speak of the Rythmus of. prose ; and 
to notice in as few words as possible, the original and practical 

to the English ear, and utterly without a flowing rythmus either as poetry or 
prose. 

We pronounce the word accommodation with a strong accent on the second 
and fourth sylables, and a contrasted feeble one, on the third and fifth: whereas 
the French, with whom it has six sylables, as ac-com-mo-da-ci-on, make but a 
slight variation in the degree of stress among them. Hence, if the word be 
moderately caricatured by a full stress on every sylable, it will resemble French 
pronunciation. And in general, to mimic that pronunciation, in English words, 
it is only necessary to substitute de, for the ; to give, to the English ear at least, 
an affected prolongation to certain sylables, and a like degree of accent on all. 
It may be perceved that the French language, in its accent and quantity, does 
not admit of Blank-verse ; as no proper prosodial meter can be given to its 
lines. Under this condition, instead of altogether rejecting the vain attempt at 
measure, and employing plain but dignified prose, in their Epic and Dramatic 
composition^ they endeavor to supply the want of a regular temporal and ac- 
centual rythmus, by the poor regularity of an equal number of sylables in each 
of their lines, and by terminating them with rhyme: and on this ground alone 
to raise the verbal structure of their poetry. May we not therefore admire the 
esthetic choice of the 'amiable' Fenelon, who tells the graceful and instructive 
story of Tclemachus, in the unembarrassed dignity of Prose, by excluding the 
puerile counting of sylables, and chime of words, in French heroic versification ? 

I would submissively propose as a subject of future inquiry among the French, 
who^ whenever they look at themselves, by the light of an analytic speech, will 
be the best judges in the casej whether this peculiar construction led to their 
use of the florid and exaggerated form of their Histrionic intonation: and 
whether, in the desire to withdraw the ear from the palling effect of the equal 
count of sylables ; and to lessen the monotony of the rhymes, they did not pur- 
posely endeavor to produce, throughout the current, and particularly at the 
close of proximate lines, a contrast of striking intervals and waves ; such as that 
of a rising interval, or an indirect wave, at the end of one line, and a reverse 
movement on the next; without those intonations having the least regard to a 
natural propriety of expression. For we must remember^ the monotony of French 
rhymes which under English law is not always canonical^ and of its equal num- 
ber of sylables, is not relevable by the attractive rythmus, of the English man- 
ner of accentual or temporal measure. And finally, whether by this attempt 
to avoid monotony, they did not substitute, that equally striking and more 
erroneous monotony, which is always produced. by impressive intervals im- 
properly applied. 

This is the view, which our 'Philosophy' of speech offers of the universal 
prevalence of the remarkable intonation in French Tragedy: a philosophy, 
drawn from the ordination of nature in the human voice, and that should make 
no allowance for national self-deception, and its self-solacing vanity. Be this 
view admissible or not, my observation ventures to affirm this excessive use of 



518 RYTIIMUS OF SPEECH. 

system of Mr. Steele, on the subject of accentuation and pause: 
this being among the first results, in modern times, of an inquiry 
into the philosophy of spoken language. 

Speech would not be suited to the interchange of thought and 
passion, if every sylable of every word were successively and 
equally accented. For by this uniform accentuation, it would 
want that vocal light and shade, and that pronounced relief, re- 
quired for a distinct picture of mental and audible perception^ 
consequently thoughts would not be easily distinguished from 
each other; and speech would be inconveniently slow. Whether 
this slowness would result from the hiatus, in passing from one 
accent to another, each with a full radical upon it, we need not 
here inquire. It is enough to know, that if the following, or any 
other sentence be read with every sylable accented, the delay will 
be unavoidable. 

The Eight of suf-frage in a Re-pub-lic, will, through the suc-ces-sive 
Oli-gar-chy of weak and am-bi-tious Knaves, al-ways end in the Wrongs 
of the Peo-ple. 

Although this political axiom should be deliberately read as 
well as closely laid to heart; still, with an impressive accent on 
every sylable, the pronunciation of this eternal truth would far ex- 
cede in time, even what its solemn utterance deserves. Let us 
take another example, to be read with forcible and proximate 
accent. 

The dif-fer-ence be-tween the two great An-tag-o-nists a-mong na- 
tions, is this: In a Des-pot-ism, the gov-ern-ment preys up-on the peo- 
ple. In a De-moc-ra-cy, the peo-ple prey up-on the gov-ern-ment. The 
life-blood is drawn a-like by each. In one case by the Ea-gle; in the 
oth-er by the R.ats. 

It is from this alternation of strong and weak accent, with the 
variations of long and short quantity, that the graceful flow of 
style, and much of the power and beauty of speech are derived. 

Horid intervals, in all the French Tragedians I have heard, including an Actress 
of the day, whom the Critics of Paris, with unbounded eulogy, but without the 
least vocal discrimination, present to the world as the paragon of Tragic Art. I 
say nothing here, of gesture and other accompaniments of this vivid and false 



RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 519' 

This being the character of the accentual function, Mr. Steele,, 
by an original view of the relations between accent, quantity, 
and pause, made divisions of the line of speech, analogous to 
the Bars of musical notation. These may be called Accentual 
Sections.* 

We will attempt to explain part of the system of Mr. Steele,. 
by the following sentence ; using italics in place of his symbol 
for the accented sylable ; the numeral seven for the pause; and 
marking the sections, merely for reference. 

12 3 4 5 6 
| 7 In the | sec ond | cent u-ry | 7 of the | christ ian | e ra | 

7 8 9 10 11 12 
I 7 the | em pire of | Rome | 7 com-pre | hend ed the ] fair est j 

13 14 15 16 17 18 
j part of the | earth 7 | 7 and the j most 7 | civ i-lized \ por tion J 

19 20 

j 7 of man | kind, j 

Mr. Steele first assumes the time of the several bars to be 
equal, like that of the bars in music ; the term bar, meaning, not 
the vertical lines, but the space between them. He next sub- 
divides a sentence into bars, each of equal time; that time con- 
sisting, either altogether of verbal sound, or of a verbal sound 
and of a silent time or pause. Supposing then a bar, or ac- 
centual section, to contain, in its verbal time, one, and never 
more than one, accented sylable, or heavy Poize, as he calls it ; 
and one or more unaccented, which he calls the light Poize; the 

intonation: nor of Comedy and Vaudeville, which though employing a some- 
what exaggerated form of coloquial speech are altogether most admirable. 

Could I have had the opportunity of personally observing the method of 
teaching Declamation in the Conservatorio, I might have spoken with more ful- 
ness, and accuracy on this subject. 

* The Greek Rhetoricians gave the name of Prosodial Feet, to certain ar- 
rangements of long and short sylables^ these being identical in place however, 
respectively with the accented and unaccented; metaphorically implying the 
regular progression of poetical lines, by the measured steps of quantity and 
accent. A foot with its first sylable short and its second long, or its first 
lightly and its second strongly accented, was called an Iambus, as consume. 
When this order of quantity and accent is reversed, a Trochee, as mdrn-ing. A 
foot of three sylables, with the first long and the other two short, or the first 
strongly and the others lightly accented, a Dactyl, as grdce-ful-ly . Mr. Steele's 
purpose was to apply to prose-reading, a rythmus founded on these principles 
of poetic construction. 



520 RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 

beginning of the bar is always occupied by the heavy accent, 
and the end by the light, or in their absence, by a respectively 
equivalent silent time or pause. In the first bar of the above 
example, there is no heavy accent, for the sentence begins with 
two light sylables, but its time is indicated by the symbol of a 
silent pause: the two light are set at the end of the accentual 
section. The word second, in the next bar, has a heavy sylable 
followed by a light one, and thus makes a full and audible time. 
In the third bar, the word century has a heavy, followed by two 
light sylables. The fourth has the same time in sylable and 
pause, as the first. The fifth and sixth are of the same con- 
struction as the second. The seventh has one light accent, and a 
pause in place of the heavy. The eighth is like the third. The 
ninth and twentieth have each one heavy accent ; for each syla- 
ble being a prolongable quantity, the time may be extended to an 
equality with that of the other bars. The fourteenth and six- 
teenth have each, like the last-named, a heavy; but wanting the 
light, its time is supplied by a pause: for the short quantity 
of these words does not allow their prolongation to the full time 
of a bar. The other bars are only respectively, repetitions of 
those already described. If we suppose so many sylables within 
a bar, as to require an improper precipitancy of utterance, to 
make the time of the sections equal, it becomes necessary to add 
a new bar, for the redundant light sylables, and to set them 
at the end of the new bar, and the symbol of a pause, at the 
beginning, in place of the heavy or accented sylable. In the 
example, we might put | century of the | into one section ; but 
when the sentence is read deliberately, this section is too long. It 
is better ordered in the example, by a subdivision, and by a pause 
in the place of an accented sylable. An immediate succession of 
long quantities may allow a change of the rythmus. In the eighth 
bar of the example, em has the first place, as the accented syl- 
able ; and it may be emphatically prolonged to the time of an 
entire bar; but pire is so impressive by its quantity that it also 
may form the first part of a bar, and the division may bej | em j 
| pire of | Rome | . It is the same with the seventeenth ; where 
though civ is the accented, lized is the longer sylable, and we 
may have the divisionsj | civ i | lized | ; the last long sylable, 



RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 521 

from its quantity supplying the time of an entire bar. With this 
general explanation, the Reader is refered to Mr. Steele's work, 
for a more particular account of the system. Perhaps I have not 
properly marked the bars of this sentence. My purpose however, 
being only to ilustratej others may with an ear of taste, improve 
the reading for themselves. Yet it is worthy of remark, that if 
this sentence is read without its linear divisionsj the voice of a 
good reader is disposed to make its pauses in those very places, 
and of that duration, visibly indicated by the symbol of the pause, 
both in the light and heavy parts of the bar; showing the instinct 
of the voice; with the powers of analysis, and the originality of 
Mr. Steele. 

It will perhaps be asked here^ What is the meaning of these 
divisions? And what useful purpose they serve in instruction? 

All works on elocution before the time of Mr. Steele, recom- 
mend the accurate accentuation of words, and a strict attention 
to their separation at the proper places for pausing. And although 
Mr. Sheridan gives particular examples of notation for rhetorical 
emphasis, and for pause, he lays-down no formal rule, to direct a 
pupil on these points, as Mr. Steele has done, by his divisional 
bars placed before the heavy accent. The importance of the 
subject in our early schools, may be learned from the manner in 
which children begin to read; for their hesitating utterance, and 
their close attention to the single word, lead them to lay an 
equal stress on every sylable, or at least on every word. This 
habit continues a long time after the eye has acquired a facility 
in following up discourse ; and in some cases infects pronunciation 
throughout subsequent life : as it is not till the tongue goes trip- 
ping, or rather halting, with its firm and its tender step on words, 
that the ear becomes sensible of the use and beauty of accent. 
Mr. Steele's notation having a symbol for the degrees of stress, 
here marked by an italic sylable, presents a visible analogy to 
the light and heavy impression, and furnishes a child with the 
picture of his lesson on accent, and with a monitor to his ear. I 
do not sayj this object would not be attained in a degree, by em- 
ploying the common mark of stress on all accented sylables : yet 
even this is never done ; and if it were, it would not have the 
34 



522 RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 

generality of a precept, nor be as definite for elementary instruc- 
tion, as the conspicuous division by bars; nor would it include 
the indication of pause, together with other points embraced by 
the system of Mr. Steele. 

One of the objects of a scientific institute is, to point out what 
is necessary in an art, even though it should not be able to direct 
the exact manner of executing it; and perhaps no one who has 
attentively looked into Mr. Steele's notation will hesitate to ac- 
knowledgej it has set the subjects of accentuation and pause in 
an entirely new light before him. 

This notation is founded on a knowledge of the conventional 
accents of English words, and though it would not inform a child 
what sylables are of long quantity, or emphatic ; nor, where the 
pauses are to be placed ; it will enable a master, who knows how 
to order all these things in speech, to furnish his scholar with a 
visible ilustration of his task, and a rule for subsequent use. If a 
boy is taught by this method, he acquires a habit of attention to 
the subjects of accentuation and pause, that may be readily 
applied, without the notation, in ordinary discourse. 

I have gladly embraced an opportunity to notice the ingenius 
originality of Mr. Steelej who was among the first to shriek-out 
at the incubus of ancient prosody, which had crouched so close on 
the bosom of his own, and of every modern language. The ryth- 
mical portion of his work is observative, though neither full nor 
systematic; and his distinction of what he calls Poize, from the 
effect of quantity and stress, appears to me to be altogether no- 
tional and cloudy. Notwithstanding his philosophic turn for 
really hearing speech, he seems, on the subject of his light and 
heavy Poize, to have fallen almost into the mysticism of ' Occult 
causes.' Still I have taken a short and perhaps unsatisfactory 
view of this part of his essay, as prefatory to the few following 
remarks on the subject of rythmus.* 

The Rythmus of language is produced by a certain order of 

* Mr. Steele first published his views, under the title cited in the introduc- 
tion to this essay. A few years afterwards he gave a second edition of his 
work, with the phrase of 'Prosodia Rationalis.' This last has very little addi- 
tion to the former print: and its Latin words serve only to obscure the simple 
explanation of his early English title. 



RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 523 

accent, quantity, and pause. Or in other words, a certain suc- 
cession of sylables, having different degrees of stress, or of quan- 
tity; and this succession being divided into portions by pauses, 
constitutes the agreeable impression of the current of speech, 
called Rythmus. And further, certain perceptible relations, be- 
tween the various sounds of the elements and of sylables joined 
with the flow of that rythmus, serve both in prose and verse, to 
extend and to highten its esthetic character. These relations 
regard an interesting branch of Rhetorical inquiry; embracing 
those delicate audible perceptions, either agreeable or otherwise, 
of the similarity and contrast of elemental and sylabic sounds, 
which cannot have escaped the notice of a cultivated ear; and 
which may have been instinctively observed, and practiced, in 
Greek and Roman Elocution, yet never described or reduced to 
system. And though what is here said may not be perceptible to 
every Reader ; some perhaps, may follow-up this hint on the sub- 
ject of those graceful accompaniments of rythmus, which I am not 
at this time prepared to pursue. 

Two methods of applying the alternate force and remission of 
stress, and the variations of quantity are employed in the con- 
struction of rythmus. One procedes by a regular repetition of 
the same order of impressions, in Versification. The other, in 
Prose, has no formal arrangement of its strong and weak, or its 
long and short sylables. The system of the order of sylables in 
verse constitutes what is called Prosody. This subject having 
been ably treated by authors, and being beyond the design of 
this essay, we here pass it by, with the remark, that if English 
prosodists would listen to their own language, when they under- 
take to regulate it, and would scrutinize what the older gram- 
marians have said upon the subject of Time^ which, we have 
some causes for beleving, they themselves did not thoroughly 
analyzej their science would be more inteligible, and their rules 
of practice more useful to the student. 

Though the broad distinction between prose and verse consists 
in the more irregular sequence of accent and quantity in the 
former: still they seem to compromise their differences to a cer- 
tain degree, in their respective attempts at excelence. For the 
best poetic rythmus is that which admits occasional, and well- 



524 RTTHMUS OF SPEECH. 

ordered deviations from the current of accentuation; these devi- 
ations however, not continuing long enough to destroy the general 
character of regularity; the order returning before the ear has 
forgotten its previous impression. Prose, on the other hand, is 
constantly showing the beginning of a regular rythmus: but 
before any order of accent or quantity has time to impress- the 
ear with its measures the cross-purpose of a new series destroys 
the order of incipient versification. 

The sources of variety, beauty, and force, in rythmus may be 
learned from the following general view of its construction. 

In ordinary pronunciation there may be several successive 
monosylabic-words marked by the abrupt accentj the abruptness 
necessarily producing a momentary pause between them : or 
there may be an accented sylable followed by one or more, and 
not exceeding five unaccented ; the average proportion being 
about one accented, to two or three unaccented. From this it 
appears that the divisions, included between tbe vertical lines of 
Mr. Steele's notation, called here, accentual sections, may con- 
sist of from one to five sylables, and with peculiar arrangement, 
and care in pronunciation, perhaps of six. Consequently, if a 
rythmus were formed on the function of accent alone, a series of 
these differently constituted sections, would furnish the ground- 
work for considerable variety. In the above example, the sec- 
tions consist of from one to five sylables, for the third and fourth 
may be thrown together by omitting the bar and the pause, with- 
out offending the ear ; and these sections being arranged in varied 
succession, is one of the causes of the agreeable rythmus of that 
sentence. 

Perhaps the Reader will now admitj the ear is as strongly 
attracted by quantity, as by stress. When, therefore, these two 
functions are combined, the means of variety are multiplied. In 
the following sentence, slightly altered from Gibbon, I have 
marked in italics those sylables which make an impression by 
their quantity, and add dignity to the varied accentual rythmus. 

The masters of the fairest and most wealthy climates of the globe, turrCd 
with contempt from gloomy hills, assaifd by the wintery tempest, from lakes 
QonceaVd in mist, and from cold and lonely heaths, over which the deer of the 
forest were chased by a troop of naked barbarians. 



RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 525 

Besides the variety and impressiveness arising from stress and 
quantity, the rythmic effect may be further diversified by includ- 
ing one or more accentual sections within the boundary of pauses. 
If the useful economy of the term may be allowed, let us call the 
portions of discourse so formed, Pausal sections. They may con- 
sist of a single word; and the structure of style, and ease of 
utterance, rarely admit of their containing more than twenty syl- 
ables. In the following example the pausal sections are included 
between the upright lines, that the order and variety of the suc- 
cession may be surveyed by the eye. The lines designate only 
the place of the pause in clear and impressive reading, without 
denoting its several durations. 

It is gone | that sensibility of principle | that chastity of honor | which 
felt a stain j like a wound j which inspired courage | whilst it mitigated 
ferocity | which ennobled whatever it touched | and under which | vice it- 
self | lost J half its evil | by losing all its grossness. | * 

* 

The agreeable effect of variety in the pausal sections will per- 
haps be more remarkable, by contrasting it with the monotony of 
the antithetic style. The following sentence exhibits, not the art. 
but the artifice of rhetorical construction. 

When I took the first survey of my undertaking | I found our speech j 
copious j without order | and energetic j without rules | wherever I turned 
my view | there was perplexity | to be disentangled [ and confusion to be 
regulated | choice was to be made [ out of boundless variety | without any 
established principle of selection | adulterations were to be detected | with- 
out any settled test of purity | and modes of expression | to be rejected or 
receved | without the suffrages of any writers of classical reputation | or 
acknowledged authority. | 

Such measured divisions used occasionally may give variety to 
discourse; but as a characteristic of style, they become tiresome 
to the earj and aiming to be forcible merely by verbal contrasts, 
often weaken the more important force of thought. There seems 

* The manner in which lost, here forms by itself, a pausal section, is ex- 
emplified in Mr. Steele's method of notation: | Vice it | selfl \ lost 7 | half its i 
| e vil. ] A good reader would pronounce this clause, with emphasis on lost, 
and a pause before and after it: thus according with Mr. Steele's principles of 
Accentual division. 



526 RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 

too, to be a want of dignity in this kind of rythmus; and those 
who affect it, scarcely perceve how nearly they approach to the 
principle of the ludicrous: for when its features are slightly sur- 
charged by caricature, it really becomes so. The principle is 
that of a resemblance in sound, with a difference in meaning. 
The similarity in the number of words, together with the like 
places of their accents, and the equal count of sylables, under 
which it has sometimes been the literary practice to set-forth the 
strongest antithesis in thought or passion, has not exactly the 
contrasted imagery of a pun, but it reminds me of it. 

The monotonous effect of a series of similar pausal sections, is 
conspicuous in the following example from the poems of Ossian. 
It is however, fair to remark, that as the extract has only two 
trisylabic words, and not one polysylable, this peculiarity must 
be taken into account, with the other defects of its composition. 

And is the son of Semo fallen ? | mournful are Tura's walls. | Sorrow dwells 
at Dunscai. | Thy spouse is left alone in her youth. | The son of thy love is 
alone! | He shall come to Bragela, | and ask why she weeps? | He shall 
lift his eyes to the wall, | and see his father's sword. | Whose sword is that? 
] he will say. | The soul of his mother is sad. | Who is that, | like the hart 
of the desert, | in the murmur of his course? | His eyes look wildly round | 
in search of his friend. | Conal | son of Colgar | where hast thou been J 
when the mighty fell? | Did the seas of Cogorma roll round thee? | Was the 
wind of the south in thy sails? | The mighty have fallen in battle, | and thou 
wast not there. | Let none tell it in Selma, | nor in Morven's woody land. | 
Fingal will be sad, | and the sons of the desert | mourn. 

The pausal sections are nearly all of equal length, and this 
cause, together with the frequent occurrence of the cadence, 
produces the wearisome character of its very common language, 
for it does not deserve the name of rythmus. Doctor Johnson 
once said; many men, and women, and children in Britain, could 
write such poems as those ascribed to Ossian. I have too many 
agreeable and grateful recolections of Scotland, to quarrel with 
her partiality, if she has any, on this point: but surely, there is 
not a Roscius, who can read them. We have a vast fund for 
variety, in the constituents of speech; but we may doubt their 
sufficiency to meet the demands of this composition, without 
transgressing the rules of a just and expressive intonation. In- 



RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 527 

deed, the passage, like many others by better poets, cannot be 
read with satisfaction to the perception of a discerning ear. 

Let us compare the preceding extract, with the first few lines 
of Burke's episode on the Queen of France; which in elegance, 
variety, and impressiveness of mere rythmus, and exclusive of 
some hyperbole, and rhetorical ostentation, is not surpassed in 
the English language. 

That both the accentual and the pausal sections may be graph- 
ically made, they are here presented under Mr. Steele's notation, 
omitting the symbols for the light and heavy accent. The ac- 
centual sections are marked by upright bars, the pausal, by the 
numeral seven. 



| 7 It is | now | sixteen or | seventeen J years | 7 since I | saw the queen 
of | France, 7 | then the | Dauphiness, | 7 at Ver | sailles: | 7 7 | 7 and 
| surely | never | lighted on this | orb, | 7 which she | hardly | seemed 
to | touch, 7 | 7 a | more de | lightful | vision. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | saw 
her | just a | bore the ho | rizon, | 7 7 j decorating and | cheering | 
7 the | elevated [ sphere | 7 she j just be j gan to { move in: [ 7 7 | 
| glittering j 7 like the | morning j star; J 7 7 j full of | life, 7 | 7 and 



splendor, j 7 and j joy. | 




| Oh! j what a [ revo J lution! | 7 7 


j 7 and j what a | heart 7 | 


must I j have, j 7 to con j template j 


7 with J out e | motion, j that 


j 7 ele j vation | 7 and [ that 7 [ fall. 


1 



The agreeable effect of this rythmus may be traced to the 
following causes. 

First. The alphabetic elements are varied throughout: and 
except the similarity of sound in teen and Queen, and in the 
words lighted and delightful, cheering and sphere, they do not 
press upon each other. 

Second. The words have from one to four sylables; and these 
are finely alternated with each other. The accentual sections 
vary from one to five sylables in extent. 

Third. The Pausal sections consist of from two sylables to 
ten; and their different lengths are intermingled in succession. 

Fourth. The effect is still further varied, by an occasional 
coincidence of the temporal accent with that of stress: and the 
dignity and force of the phraseology is hightened, by the occur- 
rence of these long sylabic quantities, at the several pauses, in 



528 RYTHMUS OF SPEECH. 

the wordsj years, Versailles, orb, hon'zon, sphere, move, star, joy, 
and fall. 

Fifth. The order of the rythmus has just enough regularity to 
produce the smooth effect of verse, without allowing the reader 
to anticipate a systematic prosodial-measure. 

The only exception to be made to the commendation of this 
extract, is produced by the consecutive accents at its termina- 
tion. A cadence, with its last two sylables strongly accented, 
if not designed for some extraordinary case of expression, or 
for variety in a series of short sentences, or if its harshness 
is not modified by some long-drawn intonation on an indefinite 
quantity, is always, to me at least, both awkward and unman- 
ageable. 

Dionysius of Halicarnassus, in a summary of the constituents of 
an elegant Elocution, quoted in a Note to our seventh section, 
describes Rythmus, as supporting or 'sustaining the voice;' and 
the metaphor is just. For a well-marked arrangement of the 
varying stress and quantity of sylables, does sustain the voice, 
by keeping it from that careless staggering of speech, if I may so 
call it, and from that running of words against each other, which 
by crossing, and arresting the easy step of language, confuses 
and thwarts the expectation of both the ear and the mind. The 
Ancients., with whom Writing was an Esthetic Art, considered^ 
without rythmus, there could be no grace and dignity of style, 
whether in its lighter or its graver construction: and we learn, 
that at the earliest period, Poetry in embodying the mental per- 
ceptions of beauty and of grandeur, assumed to itself a corre- 
sponding expression, on the flowing and graceful measure of Verse. 
All this rare work however, was done by those, who if they did 
not, from the patience and thought with which they wrote, always 
beg their bread, did very often little more than earn it. Too 
many, who now use the hasty and profitable tongue and pen, 
have not time to measure for the intelect, and ear, what they 
manufacture for the market. The regular order of Meter that 
can be counted on the fingers, may for common purposes seem 
to require but little instruction. The Rythmus of Prose must 
be studied by the rules of a flowing and effective variety, as the 
Ancients studied it. It is therefore, at present, neglected: and 



FAULTS OF READERS. 529 

we are not without Critics, of such indolent or untunable ear, as 
to suppose^ we ought to write, even in the brief and simple words 
of scientific description, with the disjointed plainness of common 
speech; and that to satisfy a cultivated taste and reflection, by 
the varied accentual force, quantity, and pause of a well-adjusted 
rythmus, is to be stilted and ostentatious: as the old Elocution- 
ists say, that to read by the principles and rules of analytic 
knowledge, is to be Theatric, and formal. 

The preceding examples of rythmus ilustrate its structure and 
effects in prose composition of elevated character. But there is 
no saying to what inferior level of popular idiom, language may 
descend with dignified safety, when supported by the confident 
wings of a gliding accent and quantity, and the upholding energy 
of passion and of thought. 

From the pen of a person of fine rythmic perception, even a 
letter of business, with its enumeration of particulars, may flow 
with graceful variety, and terminate with decisive satisfaction to 
the ear; for the Grecian principle of rythmus sustaining the voice 
in discourse, applies not more to maintaining a rhetorical dignity, 
than to preserving common language from a loose and unmeasured 
rudeness. 

It is unnecessary to go into a further detail on the subject of 
rythmus. Much might be said in ilustration of its powers and 
beauties, as existing both in the current of discourse and in the 
conspicuous place of the pause. But we leave this to the Rhe- 
toricians. 



SECTION LI. 

Of the Faults of Headers. 



It is a prevailing opinion, that persons who speak their own 
states of mind, in social intercourse, always speak properly ; and 
that transfering this 'natural manner' as it is called, to formal 
reading, must insure this required natural-propriety. 



530 FAULTS OP READERS. 

This rule has arisen from ignorance of the functions which 
constitute the beauties and deformities of speech. Without a 
knowledge of causes and effects, on these points, teachers have 
been obliged to refer to the spontaneous efforts of the voice, as 
the only assistant means of instruction. Setting aside here, what 
we might insist on, that no one should pretend to say, what the 
right or natural manner is, before he knows the principles that 
make it so; we will admit? the natural manner, or any body's 
manner, or rather no manner at allj from our being accustomed 
to it, and having, it may be, a fellow-feeling with its faults, is less 
exceptionable than the first attempts of the pupil in reading; 
still the faults of ordinary conversation are similar to those of 
reading, though they are less apparent. Perhaps the common 
opinion is grounded on a belief, that a just execution must neces- 
sarily follow a full perception of the thought, and passion of dis- 
course ; for these are supposed to accompany coloquial speech. . 
No one can read correctly or with elegance, if he does not both 
perceve and 'feel,' as it is called, what he utters; but these are 
not exclusively the means of success. 

There must be knowledge, derived from peeping behind the 
curtain of actual vocal deformity still hanging before the just and 
beautiful laws of speech; and there must be an organic faculty, 
well prepared in the school of those laws, for the representation 
of thought and passion. Were it truej this pretended natural 
manner represents the proper system of vocal expression, we 
would no more require an art of elocution, than an Art of Breath- 
ing: and the whole world, in Reading and Speaking, as in the act 
of respiration, would always accomplish its purposes, with a like 
instinctive perfection. Yet far from uniformity, we find wide 
and innumerable differences, in what, with individuals and schools, 
pass for the proprieties, as well as in what are acknowledged faults 
of speech. The Elocutionist's natural manner is not therefore, 
the original ordination of the voice. It would seem, that in the 
early and unknown history of progressive man, he must, from the 
perversity attendant on his ignorance, have learned to Think, 
Speak, Act, Govern, and to be Governed viciously, before he had 
learned to think, speak, act, govern, and to be governed wisely 
and well. Man's whole executive purposes are directed by his 



FAULTS OF READERS. 531 

thoughts and passions^ the same agents that direct his speech: 
and, far as history, and well-grounded conclusions inform us, the 
just designs of Nature, in his moral, religious, political, and vocal 
condition, were found to be already crossed, or perverted, when 
he first began to look into her laws, and to turn an eye of philo- 
sophic inquiry and comparison, on himself. 

The self-prompted efforts of speech do exhibit in some instances, 
proprieties of emphasis and intonation ; but these proprieties, like 
every purposed act without its rule, being but the occasional re- 
sult of a narrow design, cannot have a generality necessary for a 
directive system of elocution ; and will be very far from satisfac- 
tory to the ear of a refined and educated taste. 

There may likewise be a wide difference, between the capability 
of a voice in its coloquial use, and of the same voice when exerted 
in a formal attempt to read. Mr. Rice, in his 'Introduction to 
the Art of Reading,' refers to a person, who had been known to 
speak with great energy and propriety, as it was presumed, those 
very words, which, being shown to him in writing or print, he 
was able, only after repeated endeavors, to pronounce in the pre- 
cise ' tone ' and manner in which he had previously uttered them. 
Supposing he did speak with propriety, which the art has never 
yet furnished the proper means for knowingj there seems, in the 
case, to have been no want of a thoughtive and passionative state 
of mind, nor of flexibility in the voice; and it must have been 
among those exceptions, in which the natural laws of expression 
prevail. But when discourse, denoting either of these states, is 
read, even by its author, the occupation of the eye distracts his 
attention from his state of mindj or permits it to be fully per- 
ceved, only when directed to a single point. If the meaning is 
to be gathered from several words, or a whole sentence, the neces- 
sary forerunning and retrospection of the eye, render the proper 
management of the voice impracticable to those who have not, by 
long exercise in the art of reading, acquired a facility in catching 
the thought and passion of discourse, and an almost involuntary 
habit of connecting with them, the proper form of vocal expres- 
sion. If this is true of one who reads what he has before spoken 
wellj more remarkably must it apply, in reading without prepa- 
ration the discourse of another. 



532 FAULTS OF READERS. 

Whatever may be the cause of the difficulty of reading-well; 
faults of all degrees and kinds do prevail in the art. Having 
therefore prepared the way for a history of these faults, by de- 
scribing what appears to be a precise and elegant use of the con- 
stituents of speech, I shall endeavor to point out the most common 
deviations from the principles, on which. I have presumed to found 
our system of Propriety and Taste. 

If we undertake to measure an art by its rules, and it is fool- 
ish to attempt it without them, we must carry with our censure, 
some knowledge of the ways and means of its perfection. Er- 
rors are in all cases, contrasts to truth; and in elocution, they 
are only the misemployment of those vocal constituents, which 
in their proper forms and uses, produce both the instinctive and 
conventional method of just and elegant speech: for some of the 
finest colors of the art, though well and truly laid-on, are dipped 
from the same sources as its faults. Whoever, with pretensions 
to taste, declares his perception of blemishes in an art, without 
having at the same time, some rule for its beauty, speaks as the 
dupe of authority, or with ignorance both of his subject and of 
himself. Let us then try to perform these inseparable duties, by 
giving the outline of a just and elegant elocution, with a particu- 
lar enumeration of its faults. 

While investigating the phenomena, and regarding the uses of 
speech, I have always endeavored to keep in view the purest and 
most elevated designs of taste. It will be little more than re- 
capitulation therefore to sayj the faultless reader should have at 
command the various forms of vocality from the full laryngeal 
bass of the orotund, to the lighter and lip-issuing sound of daily 
conversation. He should give distinctly that pronunciation of 
single elements and their aggregates, both as to quantity and 
accent, which accords with the habitual perceptions of his audi- 
ence. His plain melody should be diatonic, and varied in radical 
pitch beyond discoverable monotony. His simple concrete should 
be equable in the rise, and diminution of its vanish. His tremor 
should be under full command for occasions of grief and exulta- 
tion. Knowledge and taste must have fixed the places of empha- 
sis, and its various forms and degrees have afforded the means 
for a varied and expressive application of them. He should be 



FAULTS OF EEADERS. 533 

able to prolong his voice through every extent of quantity in the 
wave, and in every concrete interval of the rising and the falling 
scale. He must have learned to put off from the dignified occa- 
sions of reading, everything like that canting or affected intona- 
tion, which the artful courtesies and sacrificing servilities of life 
too often confirm into habit ; and to avoid in his interrogates 
the keenness and excesses of the vulgar tongue. He should have 
for this, as for every other Esthetic Art, a delicate sense of the 
Sublime, the Graceful, and the Ridiculous. A quick perception 
of the last is absolutely necessary, to guard the exalted works of 
taste, from an accidental occurrence of its causes. 

It may perhaps be considered presumptuous, to propose rules 
of taste and criticism in the Art of speaking. Before the ana- 
lytic development of speech, this could not have been done; and 
the attempt would have been equally the act of ignorance, and 
folly, the very causes of presumption. We have now ascertained 
the constituents of vocal expression, sufficiently at least, to ad- 
vance some steps towards a system; and it seemed to be no undue 
anticipation of what must hereafter form a great purpose in the 
schools of elocution, to have pointed-out a use of these constitu- 
ents, that may satisfy the cultivated ear. 

If however, any ascribed presumption should require apology, 
or justification, let me here say a word on the system I have 
offered;* and on the manner and means of its production. 

In embracing the opportunity of investigating the subject of 
the human voice, which others equally, and perhaps better quali- 
fied had suffered to pass-by, I brought to the inquiry some in- 
stinctive facility of ear, and some acquired knowledge of the 
science and practice of music. On taking-up the subject of the 
concrete movement, where the Ancients had left itj and there- 
upon tracing an identity between certain constituent functions of 
speech, and of musicj the train of investigation soon led to a dis- 
covery, that the individual vocal constituents of speech, like those 
of music, are comparatively few. This at once unfolded the cause 
of the mystery; for the delusions of that mystery were the result 
of a belief either in the inscrutable character of the constituents 
of intonation, or in the unresolvable complication of their aggre- 
gates; and this unquestioned belief had deafened all perception 



534 FAULTS OF READERS. 

of their individuality. On resolving these complicated aggregates 
into distinguishable species and individuals^ it brought their as- 
signable number and forms within the discriminative power of 
observation. The greatest, difficulty was now overcome; for by 
an unobscured perception of the disentangled individual, it was 
easy to make out the relationship between a state of mind, and 
its vocal sign. With this knowledge, obtained through my own 
experimental ilustration, I turned to the uncorrupted vocal in- 
stincts of children and of sub-animalsj to observe the particular 
constituents of passionate expression ; and then to common life, 
as well as to the eminent elocution of the Stages to compare the 
ordained constituents of both thought and passion with their 
conventional usages in speech. The power of tracing the indi- 
vidual constituents, and of recognizing their single and combined 
effects, brought me to the belief, that the system here proposed 
has its Origin and its Confirmation in Nature; and is therefore 
well adapted, by its analysis, to gratify the lover of truthj and by 
the practical uses founded upon it, to contribute to the pleasures 
of an enlightened taste. 

In developing this system of Efficient causation, I was led to 
perceve a wise conformity of the vocal means, to the expressive 
ends of speech; and to remark therein, at least the consistency 
of the system, if I did not dare to draw from the supposition of 
such Final causation, any confirmative evidence of its truth. In 
our preceding history, a broad and important distinction is made 
between the vocal functions, representing simple thought, and 
those expressive of passion. To one division, we allotted the 
second and its plain diatonic melody. To the other, the semi- 
tone, with the wider intervals and waves: manifest differences in 
the vocal means, being definitely accommodated to manifest dif- 
ferences between the thoughtive and passionative states of mind. 
On the ground of this appropriation of different means to a differ- 
ent end, it is conclusive, that the rule of rules, nowhere, and 
never forgotten by Nature^ this Rule of Fitness^ being unknown, 
or disregarded, or only rarely perceved in the use of intonation, 
must be constantly violated by speakers : that a current melody 
of thirds, or fifths, or wider waves, must counteract the Final 
Cause of Nature, in allotting a different vocal expression respec- 



FAULTS OF READERS. 535 

lively to passion and to thought; confound her intended contra- 
distinctions; prevent the repose of the ear on the unimpassioned 
diatonic; and wear out its excitability to the emphatic power of 
wider intervals, when required for occasional purposes of vivid 
expression. 

There is another consideration, to justify the establishment of 
a system of some kind, if it should not plead for the one which is 
offered here. When the several voices of thought and of passion 
are individually distinguishable, the precision of their use must 
become an object of attention and criticism with an audience; 
and under an admitted rule, their employment will be more uni- 
form, and therefore more clear and impressive. If we vary and 
confound the appropriate meaning of the vocal signs, even when 
they are joined with conventional language, we may come in time 
to destroy, and must always weaken, the character and force of 
those signs. If we constantly whine in the chromatic melody, or 
cry out emphatically in the wider intervals and waves, to no pur- 
pose of complaint or surprise, we shall in vain seek for sympathy, 
when the wolf of expression in reality seizes upon us. 

In looking for a Rule of excelence in the art of elocution, we 
are always refered, as in the other fine arts, to Nature. But 
Nature with her laws concealed from the whole mass of Mysta- 
gogues and Imitators, is when shut-out from the light of analysis, 
an unassignable pattern; and seems here, as in so many other 
cases, to be no more than the omniform parent of sectarian opin- 
ion; and like the changeable features of Liberty with the patriot, 
of Experience with the physician, Right with the moralist, and of 
Orthodoxy with the bigot-? shows as many faces as there are self- 
deceving tongues that take her name in vain. If nature, the de- 
formed instinct of human nature, I mean, is to be the rule, it can 
be only by the individual instances of excelence she produces : if 
her excelencies are scattered throughout the species, it is Art 
that must ordain this canon, by colecting them into one faultless 
example. And where is the instance in this corrupted nature, 
worthy of imitation? Is it to be found in the drawl of the sloth- 
ful? In the snappish stress of the petulant? The short quantity 
and precipitate time of the frivolous? In the continued diatonic 
of the saturnine? Or the eternal whine of the unhappy? Is it 



536 FAULTS OF READERS. 

in the canting drift of the passion-masking hypocrite; or in the 
voice of those morbid superlatives which live upon exaggeration? 
Shall we look for it in the daily-changing and mincing affectations 
of the Fashionable-Foolish ; or in the thousand contrarieties of 
National accent, quantity, and intonation, yet each in pride and 
ignorance, self-aright? Shall we find this nature's paragon, in 
the chatterings of the great market of life, that hurries through 
its melody, denies itself the repose of the cadence, and in uproar 
after rank and power, and bidding for its bargains of office or 
notoriety, strains itself to its hoarsest note? 

These are the individual instances of vocal deformity presented 
by Nature, with sacrilege so called, and daily suffered to pass 
without remark, because we are engaged at the moment with 
other thoughts and designsj and which we perceve only when the 
voice itself as a subject of taste, is the exclusive object of reflec- 
tive and discriminating attention. 

Although a Compensating Nature, still holding her regards 
over the wayward errors of the human voice, may not, under its 
corruptions, deign to show us a single instance of the fitness and 
beauty of her laws^ she has, as an indication of her means for 
perfecting the vocal powers of the individual, diffused throughout 
the species, all the constituents of that perfection. A description 
of the true character and wise design of these constituents, and 
the gathering-in of their scattered proprieties and beauties, fur- 
nish the full and choicest pattern of Imitable-Nature ; which, re- 
duced to an orderly system of precept and example, must hereaf- 
ter constitute the proper and elegant Art of Elocution. 

The Canon, so called, of statuary in Greece, which represented 
no singly-existing form, but which was said to contain within the 
Rule of its Design, all the master-principles of the Artj was the 
deliberate work of Observation, Time, and careful Experiment on 
the Eye, in the very method of reflective and discriminating 
Selection, we here claim for Elocution; and was finished at last, 
by Polycletus, only after previous ages of successive improve- 
ment. If an individual of nature might be taken as a model in 
the arts, we should not at this late day be so often obliged to 
listen to bad readers; nor to hear such clashing opinions, upon 
those who pass for the best. The productions of taste would 



FAULTS OF READERS. 537 

have forerun a present needed cultivation; and in reverse of the 
tedious growth of centuries, would like those goodly trees in the 
garden of Eden, have been ripe at their planting. 

The masters in Elocution, not perceving, that Speaking-well is 
One, in the beautiful Sisterhood of the Esthetic Arts, and not 
drawing from a common fund of colected principles, the precepts 
that might be applicable to their ownj have sometimes varied 
their old and imperfect rule of teaching by Imitation, to some- 
thing like the system of nature, as they think, by requiring their 
pupil, not to imitate another, but figuratively as it were, to imi- 
tate himself. Suppose yourself, says the Master, to be delivering 
the meaning of an author as if it is your own. 

Such a direction, in assuming to be the rule for a just and 
effective elocution, only requires a pupil to speak as he pleases, 
or as his own particular mind prompts him ; for by the direction, 
he is to make the author's meaning his own; but having, as im- 
plied by the necessity of the direction, no previous rule, he is left 
to utter them only as he pleases by an assumed rule of his own. 
At best then, under this direction, a class of a thousand pupils, 
in seeking a precept for the supposed exact meaning, would dis- 
covery there must be a thousand different precepts ; since each 
must speak by his own. It is then an unnecessary direction of 
an unthinking master. For no one can read well, except he does 
spontaneously read as if the meaning were his own : showing the 
superfluity at least of directing him to make it his own, in order 
to read well. And again, the pupil who cannot so far know an 
author's mind, as to be able to represent it from written descrip- 
tion, would be very likely to mistake it under his master's vague 
direction, that he must try to make it his own. Let us however, 
suppose^ this rule of Self-Imitation might serve for commonplace 
thought, on everyday occasions. 

On the other hand, suppose the art of reading to be employed 
in representing the strictest truth and propriety of dramatic char- 
acter, or the most delicate picturing by the higher poetry. How, 
with the great Crowd of mankind, will the rule of substitution 
meet this case? I have more than once, seen among Aspirants of 
the Stage, the pitiable result of what was supposed to be a repre- 
35 



538 FAULTS OF READERS. 

sentation of the Truth of Nature, by this affecting to become 
identical with their enacted Character, in assuming the thought 
of another as their own; a representation of Nature, without a 
knowledge of her constitution and laws; a constitution, coeval 
with the period of human progress into speech. 

All the Fine Arts are essentially ArU$ each the offspring of 
a fruitful alliance between Knowledge and intelectual facility: 
the high accomplishment of the work by the Artist, and the re- 
flective enjoyment of its truth and beauty by the Votary, being 
purely the result of scrutinizing perception, extensive compar- 
ison, enlightened choice, and a harmonized use of the scattered 
facts and rules of propriety, unity, expression, grandeur and 
grace. 

Many of the faults of speakers arise from their being taught 
by imitation alone. As long as there has been a history of the 
Stage, so long, Actors have been classed in the school of some 
Preceding, or Cotemporary master. But as there is always one, 
who by chance or by merit is the Leader of the ' lustrum/ and 
even five years is a long life for fashionable famej it generally 
happens that his faults may for the time, be recognized through- 
out a crowd of pupils and imitators. From the want of some 
definite corrective, the bad reading of a Pulpit sometimes infects 
a whole class of students^ who circumscribe the active benefits 
of their master's solemn example by taking-up his sinful elo- 
cution. 

It may be saidj If we establish a system of principles, all 
readers must be of one school, and this will be equivalent to imi- 
tation. There would be one school; a school of acknowledged 
and permanent precept, with a likeness in its excelence, not in 
its defects. Many actors who differ from each other in their 
faults, yet give occasional short sentences with similar propriety, 
without exciting a remark on that similarity; for propriety is 
here, the fitness of truth. It is only upon some imitated outrage 
of utterance, that in a moment, the whispered name of a proto- 
type is heard in twenty parts of a theater. Serious imitations of 
distinguished Actors and Speakers, like gay mimicries of them, 
are generally made on peculiar pronunciation, monotony, un- 
pleasant quality of voice, peculiar forms of melody, whining, 



FAULTS OF READERS. 539 

false cadence, or no cadence at all, and precipitate and unac- 
countable transitions.* 

But, enough of unsatisfactory argument on this subject. The 
art of Elocution has never yet, by system or rule, reached that 
consummation, which might be called, the Canonical Beauty of 
Speech. The corrupted instinct of individuals, has been for each, 
the universal guide; and the best management of the voice has, 
under so poor a master, fallen-short of an effective means for the 
highest oral excelence of an ordained Elocution: while the com- 
mon herd of pretenders afford both shocking and endless examples 
of deformity and error. 

It is not the intention here, to speak of the constitutional de- 
formities of the voice. It is difficult however, to draw a line of 
distinction on this subject. Too many of the wilful vices of life, 
through self-delusion, pass for misfortunes: and it can scarcely 
be made a question, whether the impudent display of even na- 
tural failings should not shut-out the subject from indulgent 
commiseration. 

Three points are of leading importance to a speaker: and if 
deficiencies therein are not to be called misfortunes, we may rank 

* Strange, indeed! that such faults should be found among distinguished 
Actors and Speakers. But I write from observation; having heard them all. 

The celebrated -> who had a grating and untunable vocality, and 

whose elocution as I recolect it, was affected and monotonous, in a formal 
melody of wider intervals and waves, with an occasional minor third in em- 
phatic places^ would, after some of the Older Poets, pronounce when nobody 
else did, the plural of ache (ach-es) as two sylables, to the unseasonable merri- 
ment of those who heard him. The use of the jpinor third however, was not 
peculiar to him, for it seems to be a vocal tradition, still kept up among the 
English. The Quakers, particularly their women, in public preaching, employ 
it to an extravagant degree; and, from the incorrigible character of all sectari- 
anism, probably had it in the time of Fox ; whose followers may have derived 
it through the earlier Protestants, from some awkward imitation of chanting, in 
the Catholic-service. Be this as it may, it is not uncommon, in private life, 
even with women of the higher classes, in England; and very common on the 
Stage. We often hear it in Actors as well as Actresses who come over to us. 
We had some years ago, one of the latter, whose intonation was almost a melody 
of minor thirds. As long as she lasted, it was thought very fine; and was imi- 
tated by many American theatric Misses. Its affectation was so remarkable, 
that it was a subject of mimicry for every shop-girl with a good ear, who 
heard it. 



540 FAULTS OF READERS. 

them as great and generic faults. I mean the defects of the 
Mind, of the Ear, and of Industry. 

Speech is intended to be the sign of every variety of thought 
and passion. If therefore the mind of a scholar be not raised to 
that generality of condition, which can assume all the characters 
of expression, he will in vain aspire to great eminence in the art. 
If his mind is endued only with the diplomatic virtue of unruffled 
caution; if it is of that character which compliments its own 
dulness.by calling energy, violence^ and drawls-out in reprobation 
at the vivid language of truth; if all its busy goings are just 
around the little circle of its own selfish schemes; if it has yet to 
know itself, as only a compound of thought, and passion; and to 
hear, without being convinced, that success in every art is not 
more indebted to the plans of sagacious thought, than to the per- 
severance of thoughtful passion; if the mind, I repeat it, is of 
such a cast, its possessor may with the resources of elementary 
knowledge, and methodj attain a certain proficiency in the art, 
may save himself from its striking faults, and probably satisfy 
his own uncircumspect perception; but he can never reach the 
highest accomplishment in elocution. 

In speaking of the mental requisites for good reading, we must 
not overlook our frequent neglect to discriminate between a merely 
forceful, and a delicate state of mind. The latter makes the full 
and finished Actor; and it is unfortunate for his art, that en- 
dowments, which under proper cultivation insure success, are 
generally united with a modesty that retires from the places and 
"occasions for displaying its merits: the former in reaching no 
more than the coarse energy of the passions, is able to figure on 
the Stage, only as the outrageous Herod, the brazen Beatrice, 
and the Buffoon. 

The mind, with its comprehensive and refined discriminations, 
must furnish the design of elocution; the ear must watch over 
the lines and coloring of its expression. 

The ability to measure nicely the time, force, and pitch of 
sounds, is indispensable to the higher excelencies of speech. It 
is impossible to say how much of the musical ear, properly so 
called, is the result of cultivation. There is however a wide dif- 
ference even in the earliest aptitudes of this sense; and though 



FAULTS OF READERS. 541 

the means of improvement derived from analysis will hereafter 
greatly increase the proportional number of good readers, and 
produce something like an equality among themj still the pos- 
session of a musical ear must, with other requisites, always give 
a superiority. 

I have more than once in this essay, urged the importance of 
Industry, the third general means for success. Neglect on this 
point may be considered as an egregious fault in a speaker; and 
it certainly is the most culpable. It is here placed on high 
ground, along with mental susceptibility and delicacy of ear, 
those essentials which have been designated by the indefinite 
term 'genius.' In vain will the mind furnish its finest percep- 
tions, or the ear be ready with its measurements, if the tongue 
should not contribute its persevering industry. By a figure of 
speech that took a part for the whole of the senses, a happy 
penalty upon mankind, as it was early written, doomed the taste 
to be gratified by the sweat of the brow: the ear can receve its 
full delight in Elocution, only through the long labor of the 
voice. 

The faults of speakers are of endless variety: but if I have 
told the whole truth, they embrace no mode or form of voice, here 
unnamed. It seems as if Nature had assumed, in her adjusted 
system of speech, all its available signs. The worldly tongue, 
with his corrupting habit, in deforming this all-perfect endowment, 
makes no addition to its constituents, but performs his part in 
human error, by misplacing them. In the present history of the 
faults of speech, we may therefore pursue something like the 
order, more than once, given to our subject. 

The five general heads, under which we considered the Modes 
of the voice, are Vocality, Time, Force, Abruptness, and Pitch. 

Of Faults in Vocality. This subject is so well known, both in 
the Art, and in common criticism, that it is unnecessary to be 
particular upon it. Harshness or roughness is one of the dis- 
agreeable forms of the voice. The nasal is still more offensive. 
Shrilness may rather be called a Vocality than a state of Pitch. 
It wants dignity, seems like a mockery of the voice, and though 
heard remotely, and drawing attention, it is with the attraction 
of a caricature. The huskiness of aspiration is more apt to be 



542 FAULTS OF READERS. 

united with the orotund. It may not diminish the gravity and 
sober grandeur of this voice, but it obscures the clearness of its 
vocality. 

The falsette is sometimes used in the current of speech. We 
hear persons on the stage, in the senate, the fervent pulpit, and 
on the scaffold of the demagogue, who offend with the falsette 
only occasionally, by the melody breaking from the natural voice, 
on a single sylable. Every speaker has a falsette; and the skil- 
ful can always guard against its improper use. As a fault, it 
results either from the limited compass of the natural voice, or 
from a defect of ear in the speaker; for not having an accurate 
perception of his approach to it, he is unable to avoid the evil, 
by a ready descent of intonation. 

The falsette is common in the voices of women. It has with 
them a plaintive character; and the melody at this high pitch is 
apt to be monotonous. 

Of Faults in Time. It is not meant to treat here, of what is 
called reading too fast or too slow. There is nothing new to be 
said on this point. But we who speak English are said, by the 
report of the compilers of Greek and of Latin grammars, to 
know nothing of Quantity, and to have none in our language 
That bad readers, and persons who will not learn their own tongue 
may know nothing of its quantity, is readily granted; still, that 
it is an essential part of every language, and the neglect of it, a 
source of many faults in ours, must be admitted by those who 
know the effect of sylabic time, and the proper use of the voice. 

Quantity, as a fault, may be too long or too short. When 
states of mind requiring short time, such as gayety and anger, 
are expressed by long quantity, it produces the vice of Drawling. 
This drawling may go through its excessive quantity, either as 
a wave of the second, or an equal or unequal wave of wider inter- 
vals, or as the note of Song. 

When deliberate or solemn discourse is hurried over in a short 
sylabic quantity, the fault is no less apparent and offensive. This 
defect in reading is by far the most common; and it has been 
said, more than once, in this essay, because it is well to rouze the 
English ear to this subject, that the command over time in the 
pure and equable concrete of speech, is found only in speakers 



FAULTS OF READERS. 543 

of fervent temperament and long experience. Such persons in- 
stinctively acquire the use of extended quantity: as through long 
sylables, most of their earnest expression is effected. It is from 
ignorance of this fact, that some speakers, neglecting the variety 
and smoothness of the temporal emphasis, give prominence to 
important words only by the hammering of accent. 

Of Faults in Force. The misapplication of the degrees of the 
piano and the forte, in the general current of discourse is suffi- 
ciently obvious. But the forms of stress, on different parts of the 
concrete, have never been observed, and consequently, have never 
been noted as a fault. 

Many speakers, from a difficulty in commanding the variations 
in quantity, execute most of their emphasis in the form of force ; 
yet even in this apparently simple effort, they are not free from 
faults. Some persons, after the manner of the Irish, employ the 
vanishing stress on all emphatic sylables. This has its meaning 
in expression, but it is misplaced, except on the occasions formerly 
pointed out. A want of the sharp and abrupt character of the 
radical is not an uncommon fault. It occurs generally in the dull 
and indolent: for nothing shows so clearly an elastic temper in 
the voice, as the ability to suddenly explode this initial stress. 
On the. other hand it is a more frequent fault 5 to over-stress the 
accented sylable, by that hammering of the voice, which destroys 
the dignity of deliberate intonation. This over-stress does most 
violence to the solemn expression, appropriate to many parts of 
the Church-service: for here the waves of the second, on indefi- 
nite quantities, whether accented or notj including by license, 
even a slight extension of the shortest sylablesj should with cau- 
tious management, and not unlike the 'leaning note' of song, be 
carried by a blending quantity from concrete to concrete, in a 
reverentive drift of deliberate dignity; the necessary emphasis 
being made by a comparative excess of quantity, with the impres- 
sive and graceful gliding of the median stress. 

It is not my intention to notice the faults of emphatic stress, 
in the common meaning of the term. They all resolve into a 
want of true apprehension on the part of the reader. Through 
ignorance of other constituents of an enlarged and definite elo- 
cution, which our present inquiry has taught us to appreciate and 



544 FAULTS OF READERS. 

to recommend, this well known subject of stress-laying emphasis, 
has always been considered of the first importance in the art ; 
and unfortunately in the school of imitation, it has under the cri- 
tical term Reading, restrictively assumed, at least a nominal 
superiority over the other modes of speech. 'How admirably 
she reads,' said a thoughtless critic, of an actress, who, with per- 
haps a proper emphasis of Force, was nevertheless, deforming her 
utterance, by every fault of Time and Intonation. The critic 
was one of those who having neither knowledge nor docility, de- 
served neither argument nor correction. Emphasis of stress, 
being almost the only branch of elocution in which there is an 
approach towards a practical rule, this single function, under an 
ignorance of other modes of emphatic distinction, has, by a figure 
of speech grounded on its real importance, been assumed in the 
limited nomenclature of criticism, as almost the sole essential of 
the art. Even Mr. Kemble, whose eulogy should have been 
founded on whatever other merits he may have possessed, made, 
if we have not been misinformed, the first stir of his fame, by 
a new * reading,' or a new discriminative stress, in a particular 
scene of Hamlet. Under this view, it would follow, that he who 
properly applies the emphasis of force, in the Art of Reading, 
accomplishes all its purpose; he reads, or he accentuates well. 

We have awarded to the emphasis of force its due, but not its 
undue degree of consequence ; and it may be hereafter admitted, 
that much of the contention about certain unimportant points of 
this stress-laying emphasis, and of pause, has arisen from critics 
finding very little else of the vast compass of speech, on which 
they were able to form for themselves a determinate opinion. 
When, under a scientific institute of elocution, there will be more 
important matters to study, and delight in, it may perhaps be 
foundj much of this trifling lore of italic notation, now serving to 
keep up commonplace contention in a daily gazette, will be quite 
overlooked, in the high court of philosophic criticism.* 

* Some one, of those who like to make business in an art, rather than to do 
it, has raised a question whether the following lines from Macbeth, should be 
read with an accent and a pause at banners or at walls : 

Mac. Hang out our banners on the outward walls 
The cry is still, They come. 



FAULTS OF READERS. 545 

We do not speak of the faults of pronunciation, depending on 
misplaced verbal or grammatical accents. Propriety in this mat- 
ter is set-forth in the dictionary, and the errors of speech may be 
measured by its conventional rules. Nor is it within the purpose 
of this essay to notice faults in the pronunciation of the alpha- 
betic elements. Criticism should be modest on this pointj till it 
has the mental independence to give to the literal symbols of 
those elements, and to their redundant, and defective uses, more 
of the character of a work of wisdom, than they have ever receved 
in any written language; till the pardonable variety of pronuncia- 
tion, and the ear-directed speling by the vulgar, have satirized 
into reformation, that scholastic pencraft which keeps up the 
difficulties of orthography, with no other purpose, it would seem, 

To those whose elocution consists in such riddles, we propose the following, 
from Goldsmith : 

A man he was, to all the country dear, 
And passing rich with forty pounds a year. 

Let them guess variously, or sharply dispute, upon the question of applying 
an emphasis on passing, or on rich; thereby to determine -jeither that the good 
Village Parson was passing or superlatively rich, with his forty pounds; or that 
he passed among his parishioners, as only very well-off in the world. 

I some time ago noticed the following punctuation, in one of those wandering 
Actors known as Stars. 

I'll call thee Hamlet, 
King, Father ; Royal Dane answer me. 

Perhaps, after writing the words King and Father, the Poet's choiceful ear 
was deluded into the repetition Royal Dane, by the fine variety of elemental 
sound, and rythmic accent and quantity in the Title. The ambitious reading of 
the Star was worse than careless, without an apology^ by imploring emphati- 
cally of the Royal Dane what he would not of Hamlet, King, and Father. 

I heard another erratic Star of critical ilumination, read thus : 

How fares our Cousin Hamlet? 
Ham. Excelent, i' faith, of the chamelion's dish I eat; the air promise- 
crammed. 

Leaving it to a brighter star-light to show, whether Hamlet, or the air was 
inconsiderately crammed. 

Many persons who might be profitably hired to Square Timber, make-show 
of doing something, by idly whittling sticks. 



546 FAULTS OF READERS. 

than to pride itself in the use of a troublesome and awkward sys- 
tem, as a criterion of education^ and with the tyranny of habit, 
to oppose every promising attempt to correct it. 

Of Faults in Pitch. Speech has been especially, one of those 
many subjects, in which we often pronounce upon the right and 
the wrong, without being able to say why they are so. If we 
have resolved the obscurity in respect to the proprieties of in- 
tonation; it will not be difficult on similar principles, to give 
some explanation of its faults. 

Of Faults in the Concrete Movement. I have more than once 
spoken of that peculiar characteristic of speech, the full opening, 
the gradual decrease, and the delicate termination of the con- 
crete. As this structure is destroyed by the use both of the 
vanishing, and the thorough stress, the misapplication of either 
must be regarded as a fault. The vanishing stress, exemplified 
by the upward jerk in some of the Irish people, produces a pecu- 
liar monotony, when continued throughout discourse; and the 
thorough stress, if not used for especial emphasis, or designed 
incivility, is a striking and a vulgar fault. Every one must be 
familiar with what is called a coarse and unmannerly tone. This, 
as regards the structure of the concrete, was formerly shown to 
be the effect of the thorough stress. Some readers seem incapa- 
ble of carrying on a long quantity through the equable concrete; 
substituting in place of it, the note of song. The most remark- 
able instance of this speech-singing, is that of the public preach- 
ing of the Friends, to be particularly described among the faults 
in melody. 

Of Faults in the Semitone. Who has not heard of whining? 
It is the misplaced use of the semitone. The semitone is the 
vocal sign of tenderness, petition, complaint, and doubtful sup- 
plication: but never of manly confidence, and the authoritative 
self-reliance of truth. It is this which betrays the sycophant, 
and even the crafty hypocrite himself. They assume a plaintive 
persuasion, or a tuneful cant, not merely to implyj they are 
prompted by a kindly and affectionate state of mind, but some- 
times because they distrust or despise themselves, and are there- 
fore influenced by the mental state of servility. Suspicion should 
therefore be awake, when the show of truth or benevolence is 



FAULTS OF READERS. 547 

proffered under the cringing whine of this expressive interval; 
and in general, whenever the semitone is used for a state of mind 
that does not call for it. A beggar should, by the instinct of his 
voice, plaintively implore; and it is equally a law of nature, 
which abhors hypocrisy no less than a vacuum, that he should 
give the truth of his narrative in a more confident intona- 
tion. 

The chromatic melody is common among women. Actresses 
are prone to this fault; and it is one of the causes which fre- 
quently prevent their assuming the matron-rofe of tragedy, and 
the dignified severity of epic, and dramatic elocution. Women 
sometimes intercede, threaten, complain, smile, and call the foot- 
man, all in the minor third or the semitone. They can vow, and 
love, and burst into agony in Belvidera; but rarely by masculine 
personation and diatonic energy, 'chastise with the [orotund) 
valor of their tongue,' and gravely order the scheme of murder in 
Lady Macbeth. 

We have described the states of mind signified by the semitone. 
Whenever it supplants the proper diatonic melody, it becomes a 
fault, and begins to be monotonous; for when appropriate it 
never is so. I once heard the part of Dr. Cantwell, in the Hypo- 
crite, played in the chromatic melody throughout. Perhaps it 
suited the pretensions of the pious villain, but it certainly was a 
palling monotony to the ear; and the want of transition, when he 
threw off the mask, in addressing his patron's wife, was remarka- 
able. He was the righteous knave and the passionate lover, all 
in the same intonation. On the whole, the effect would have been 
more agreeable, if an abated, slow, and monotonous drift of the 
second had prevailed^ with the use of the chromatic melody, when 
required by the passion. 

Of Faults in the Second. The ear has its green as well as the 
eye; and the plain interval of the second in current and elegant 
speech, like the verdure of the earth, is wisely designed, to re- 
leve its respective sense from the fatiguing stimulus of undue, 
and more vivid impressions. Though the diatonic melody, in a 
well composed elocution, is simple and unobtrusive, and thereby 
affords a ground-hue for bringing-out the contrasted color of ex- 
pressive intervals; yet it does, when continued into the place of 



548 FAULTS OF READERS. 

this wider intonation, assume a positive character, under the form 
of a fault. 

A striking instance of misapplication of the second, is its em- 
ployment for that state of mind which properly requires the 
semitone. I formerly spoke of its false expression, occasionally 
heard in the public cry of Fire. Some persons are of such a 
frigid temperament, or have such inflexible organs, even when 
a degree of warmth does not appear to be wanting, as to ap- 
pear incapable under ordinary motives, of executing the chro- 
matic melody. Pain, or a selfish instinct may force it on the 
voice; yet it seems, in them, to be so slightly connected with 
tenderness, or so little under command, that the most pathetic 
passages are given in the comparatively phlegmatic intonation of 
the diatonic melody. We sometimes see an Actor of this un- 
changing drift of temper, cast, on the emergencies of a night, to 
the part of a lover: and may occasionally hear from the pulpit, 
fervent appeals of the Litany, and humble petitions of extem- 
porary prayer, under an intonation, more appropriate to the task 
of repeatiDg the multiplication table. 

Some speakers make an over-use of the second ; for even 
this plain and inexpressive interval when misplaced, so far de- 
feats the purposes of speech that we are sometimes more indebted 
to grammatical construction, than to the voice, for a perception of 
their interrogatives. It is the same too with their emphasis, in- 
those conditional and positive sentences which, for impressive and 
varied effect, respectively require the rising, and the falling 
interval of the third, or fifth, or octave. 

The most important function of the second, consists in the 
successions of the diatonic melody. The character of these suc- 
cessions, as w T e learned in the eighth section, is produced by a 
varied composition of the seven phrases. We have now to learn 
how far the common practice of readers, deviates from the de- 
scribed, but perhaps as yet only described, perfection of a pure 
diatonic melody. 

Of Faults in the Melody of Speech. If the rule laid down in 
this essay for constructing an agreeable succession of diatonic 
phrases, is founded in propriety and taste, I must declare, I have 
never yet heard its conditions strictly fulfiled, in a well arranged, 



FAULTS OF READERS. 549 

and satisfactory melody. Players spend their time before mirrors, 
till grace of person is studied into mannerism, and expression of 
feature distorted into grimace. Emphasis of stress too, is teazed 
in experiment, through every word of a sentence, and tested in 
authority, by all the traditions of the Green-Room: but who has 
ever thought of any assignable rules for the successions of sylabic 
pitch in a current melody, or supposed therein, the existence of 
describable faults ! 

The First fault to be noticed, is the continued use of the mono- 
tone, on the same line of radical pitch ; the vanish of the second 
or of wider intervals, being properly performed. I do not here 
mean the drawl of the parish-clerk, nor the monotony of the 
reading-clerk of most public assemblies; for these are sometimes 
the note of song, and will be spoken-of presently. The unvaried 
line of radical pitch, now under consideration, is not so glaring as 
this old conventicle-tune, nor has it at all the character of song. 
If the Reader were near me, I would ilustrate the peculiarity of 
this fault ; and I can only describe it, as preventing the agreea- 
ble effect, arising from the contrast of pitch ; the transition in 
the case of a continued monotone, with a rising concrete, being 
from a feeble vanish to a full radical, only one tone below the 
summit of that vanish ; in the falling-ditone succession of a varied 
melody, the distance is two tones below the summit of the pre- 
ceding vanish. 

One of the causes of this fault in public speakers, deserves to 
be noticed here. I spoke of vociferation as a means for imparting 
vigor and fulness to the voice ; but this exercise being generally 
on a higher current, tends to prevent a proper variation of the 
melody of speech. Speakers who address large assemblies, and 
who have not that clear vocality and distinct articulation which 
would insure the required reach of voice, generally attempt to 
remedy the defect, by rising to the utmost limit of the natural 
compass, and continuing their current just below the falsette. 
For fear of breaking into this, they avoid the rising phrases of 
melody; while the purpose to be distantly heard through an ele- 
vated pitch, prevents their descending by radical change. They 
consequently continue on one monotonous line near the falsette, 
and vitiate their taste by the partial pleas of their own example; 



550 FAULTS OF READERS. 

restrain their melodial flexibility; and blunt their perception of 
the variety of movement in a more reduced current of pitch.* 

Second. Melody is deformed by a predominance of the phrase 
of the monotone, together with a full cadence at every pause. 
This perhaps is only found in the first attempts at reading by 
children and rustics. 

Third. By a proper use of the phrases of melody within a 
limited extent, but with a formal return of the same successions. 
In this case, the whole discourse is subdivided into sections, re- 
sembling each other in the order of pitch; the sections consisting 
of entire sentences, or of their members. This habit of the voice 
and ear, in dividing the melody into sections, as well as in form- 
ing accentual and pausal divisions, seems to be connected with 
one of the characters of style: for there is a tendency in some 
persons to give a like construction, and often an equal length to 
their sentences. 

All Actors, except those of the first class, and they are not as 
finished on this point as they may be hereafterj are prone to this 
bird-like kind of intonation. They have a short run of melody, 
which if not forcibly interrupted by some peculiar expression, is 
constantly recurring. The return forms a kind of melodial meas- 
ure: and I now call to mind an Actress of great repute, whose 
intonation was filled with emphasis of thirds, fifths, octaves, and 
waves; and whose sections of melody could be anticipated, with 
something like the forerunning of the mind over the rythmus 
of a common stanza of alternate versification. Those who commit 
this fault, will have no difficulty in recognizing and correcting it, 
if desirable, when the mirror of full and exact description is held 
before them. 

The monotonous effect of a repetition of these similar melodial 
sections, constitutes one of the signs by which the smart ap- 
prentices of the Pit, and some of their better-dressed peers in 

* This cause operates on the enthusiasts of the Pulpit; on many of the 
speakers, and always on the clerk of the Lower House of the American Con- 
gress ; where the scrambling cries to be first heard, with the uproar of titular 
Honorabtes, overrule the gentlemanly rights, and duties of the voice ; but it is 
most remarkable in the mouth of the stump and scaffold Demagogue, whose 
own political designs lead him to address great crowds in the open air. 



FAULTS OF READERS. " 551 

the Boxes, distinguish the voices of famous Actors, and think 
they represent their real points of excelence, when they mimic 
only the mannerism of their faults. This recurring section of a 
similar melody may in itself, consist of a proper succession of 
phrases : but being unvaried, you hear it too often and remember 
it too well. The whole current in this case, figuratively resembles 
the old Roman Festoon, which however well adapted to an in- 
sulated tablet, was in abasement of Greek architectural taste, 
joined in monotonous repetition around the frieze; instead of 
representing, as a just melody might, that succession of sculpt- 
ure, which in severe simplicity and expressive design adorned the 
varied metopes of the Parthenon. 

Fourth. I have known more than one speaker with this fault. 
Sentences are begun aloud on a high, and ended almost inaudibly 
on a low degree of pitch; and so continued throughout a whole 
discourse; producing a monotony, similar in effect, to that last 
described. It would be difficult to find out the meaning of this 
fault, or to discover such a shadow of apology for it, as many 
worse offenses in life might claim for themselves. One speaker 
whom I knew, with this striking affectation^ for no instinctive, 
nor conventional motive could ever have directed it> was, first by 
himself it is presumed, and then by the associates of his long since 
departed day of popularity, called ' a fine reader.' Such instances 
of fame may serve to convince us, that with all our blind conceitsj 
and who among us is without themj there is no art, except that of 
Thinking, in which self-imposition is more conspicuous than in 
Elocution. Without an acknowledged rule of excelence, every 
individual, cultivated or not, makes his own individual taste the 
standard. Having learned that it is the part of a good reader to 
represent the thought and passion of discourse, and as each in 
his attempt, fulfils his own conception of an author, he is self- 
persuaded, that he possesses the full power of the art. This is 
one cause why we find so much delusion on this subject. For, 
reputed 'good readers' are often not merely negatively deficient; 
they are often positively bad : and perverse as it may seem, to 
the overbearing applauses of a majority, I have frequently gone 
to observe the faults of speakers, when called to hear some 'star' 
of elocution, even though that star was himself a Teacher of the 



552 FAULTS OF READERS. 

Art. Loud whoops and veils have always been the vocal delight 
of savages; and noise of every kind is the pastime substitute for 
reflection in ignorant civilization: so an exaggerated and conse- 
quently striking character of the constituents of speech, is always 
most agreeable to the uninstructed ear. 

Fifth. The manner of changing the pitch from one degree to 
another, above or below it, in the diatonic melody, was shown in 
the eighth section. An inability to command the radical change, 
not only prevents variety of intonation, but embarrasses a reader 
in passing from a very high or very low pitch, when he has im- 
properly set out in either. Speakers sometimes descend so far, 
as to leave no voice below the line of current melody, to allow an 
audible execution of the last constituent of the cadence. In this 
case, they perceve the feeble and unsatisfactory effect of their 
intonation, without knowing the cause of it, and being able to 
apply the remedy. By the rules of a proper melodial progres- 
sion, and of the manner in which the cadence descends, the fault 
here pointed out may be avoided. 

We noticed formerly, that a reader, with a good ear, has a 
sort of ^recursive perception of the falsette, which enables him 
to turn from it, when his melody is moving near the summit 
of his natural voice. A similar anticipation of the lowest note, 
warns him to keep his cadence within the limit of distinct 
articulation. 

Sixth. The use of the protracted radical, or protracted vanish, 
instead of the equable concrete, is one of the widest deviations 
from the characteristic of speech. For, a proper diatonic melody 
consists of an equable movement through the interval of a second, 
with an agreeably varied radical change through the same space; 
the current being occasionally broken by wider equable intervals, 
and by different forms of stress, as the subject may require these 
additions upon individual words. 

Inasmuch as this fault includes that of long quantity, it is not 
often heard in the hasty utterances of common life. I have how- 
ever, met with a slight degree of it in a phlegmatic drawler. 
Public speakers overwrought by excitement, and straining their 
throats to be heardj I say, straining their throats, instead of 
energizing their voices , are most liable to this error of intonation. 



FAULTS OF READERS. 553 

Some cases of this fault are connected with a monotonous current 
melody, and a very defective management of the cadence. I heard 
it under the form of the protracted radical, along with other hein- 
ous offenses against good elocution, in one of the public's 'great 
Actors.' It was most remarkable in his endeavor to give long 
quantity to short sylables ; as in the following words of Macbeth : 

Canst thou not m — inister to a m — ind diseased; 
PI — uck from the m — emory. 

I have here set a dash after the letters on which he continued 
the protracted radical, until it suddenly vanished in the termina- 
tion of the sylable. The Actor's fault was the erring exercise of a 
vocal instinct. He perceved obscurely, the need of long quantity 
for the purpose of expression; but being one of those, who having 
some animal excitability, no education, little intelect, and an in- 
verse proportion of vanity^ are always looking upon themselves 
as the center of applausej it did not occur to him, that the pro- 
longation of a mutable sylable, might be deformed by an undue 
quantity; and that a subtonic at the beginning of a sylable, 
makes no part of the equable concrete ; two points of knowledge 
that would long ago have been prepared for his ear and tonguej 
if there had been in the Histrionic art, more observation, and 
reflection j with less reliance on the dream of 'Identity,' and the 
fatal delusion of 'Inborn Genius.' 

Seventh. The fault of melody we are now about to consider, 
is somewhat related to the last described misuse of the protracted 
notes. It includes some other forms of intonation, proper to 
song: the whole being confused in such a manner with the equa- 
ble concrete, as to destroy every design of speech, and to furnish, 
even beyond Recitative, the ultra example of vocal deformity. 

In the history of man, nothing is more indefinite than de- 
scriptions of the voice: still there is ground to belevej this ex- 
travagant melody is the same as the Puritanical whine, affected 
so generally in religious worship by the English Church, above 
two hundred years ago, and which has been changed to other 
faults scarcely less censurable, in the pulpit of the present day. 
The Society of Friends alone have retained it as a general prac- 
tice: and it will not be regarded as either idle or invidious, to 
30 



554 FAULTS OF READERS. 

look into the structure of this most remarkable intonation, by the 
light of our preceding analysis. 

I first give the notation of this melody, and will afterwards 
particularly explain it. 

I heard a voice from heav'n saying, write, 



jP t oS Q | cJ^ ** °^ 



bless — ed are the dead who die in the Lord. 



I have spoken of the Minor Third as belonging to the plaintive 
scale of song. A melody founded on a current, even of the equa- 
ble concrete of a minor third, has that peculiar character which 
forbids its use in speech. The above notation is, with a few ex- 
ceptions, a melody of minor thirds, not in the equable concrete, 
but in the note of song; and its monotonous whine is produced by 
the drift of that offensive intonation. 

Upon this staff, let the third be minor. Then the first and 
second sylables are protracted vanishes upon a concrete minor 
third. A, and voice, are protracted radicals to a concrete de- 
scent of the same interval. From, is a protracted radical to the 
rising interval of a minor third. Heav'n, is a minor third of the 
same form with voice. The two sylables of saying, are equable 
concretes of speech, respectively, of an upward and downward 
tone. The rest severally resemble those already described; ex- 
cept ivlw, which begins with a protracted radical to a direct wave 
of the minor third, and terminates in a protracted vanish, on its 
downward constituent. 

In the execution of this melody, there is besides the general 
effect of a disagreeable and monotonous songj a peculiar and 
striking contrast, from the various changes among these different 
forms of intonation. The most extraordinary liberties are taken 



FAULTS OF READERS. 555 

with quantity. The long however, as necessary for the note of 
song, predominates. No distinction is here made between im- 
mutable, and indefinite sylables: the short are prolonged to any 
extent; and both the long and the short are divided; one portion 
is given to the protracted radical or vanish, the other to the con- 
crete: as in fro-m and die. I have introduced the equable 
concrete of speech among the protracted notes, and have em- 
ployed the diatonic cadence to exemplify those abrupt and rouz- 
ing changes of intonation, sometimes made in the course, and at 
the close of this fantastic and singing melody. I do not further 
describe its varieties, in the use of the above named constituents, 
together with the tremor, and the wider intervals that may be 
combined with them; having shown enough to furnish a plan for 
self-examination and amendment. 

Should those who are accustomed to this melody askj why it 
may not be employed, if by habit agreeable, and reverenced in 
the serious occasions of its use; I answer^ that, throwing aside 
taste, as arbitrary, and regarding usefulness alone, it has no 
fitness for its intended purpose, and does not accomplish the 
attainable ends of speech. By speech we communicate our 
thoughts and passions; and in the duties of religion, there should 
be motives and zeal, to do it with the most forcible means of per- 
suasion and argument. So far as the voice is concerned, these 
means lie principally in the energy and expression of intonated 
emphasis; but in this remarkable melody, the designs of a just 
and varying intonation are counteracted by the almost continued 
impression of a plaintive song; or are crossed in purpose by the 
unmeaning obtrusion of unexpected changes. How can the states 
of mind which direct a dignified fulness of voice, for the encourag- 
ing descriptions of blessedness and glory, be represented by the 
trembling voice of distress? How can the positive conclusions 
of truth, and the wonder at almighty power, requiring the down- 
ward concrete, be enforced by the shrilness of a perpetual cry? 
How can we particularize the mental state of supplication, by 
the semitone, if we equally employ it in the threats of vengeance? 
And with what force can we represent interrogation, if the wider 
intervals instinctively allotted to it, are so often unmeaningly 
heard in the voice? 



556 FAULTS OF READERS. 

Whoever regards the words of ordinary song, knows how em- 
phasis is there confounded. It is still less clear and correct in 
the kind of melody we are now considering. 

I have endeavored to make the strongest representation of this 
fault. It is sometimes heard in a more moderate degree, especi- 
ally in the voices of women; consisting of a slight protraction of 
the vanish, on all the long quantities of discourse. 

This singing melody, delivered in the public Meeting-house, by 
men, as well as women, is generally of a high or piercing pitch; 
this being the means of audibility usually employed by persons 
of uncultivated voice. 

Of Faults in the Cadence. Speech is particularly liable to 
faults in the successions of the radical pitch of melody, and of 
the cadence. Even the best readers do not seem to have acci- 
dentally reached an attainable variety, in the execution of the 
current, and the close of discourse. Faults in the cadence are 
however the most striking. 

We can assign a cause for the frequent failures upon this 
point. 

Whoever closely observes the character of speech, in common 
dialogue, must perceve that the earnest interests which govern 
it, the sharp replications and interruptions of argument, and the 
piercing pitch of mirth and anger, exclude in a great measure, 
the terminating repose of the cadence. This is particularly the 
case with children and the ignorant, who having no motive either 
of action or speech, except interested curiosity and selfish pas- 
sion, rarely employ any other than the wider and more expressive 
intervals of intonation. When therefore a person first undertakes 
to read, with the serious purpose of a dignified elocution, the im- 
passioned habit is too inveterate to be at once laid asidej and a 
disposition to keep up the coloquial characteristic of speech, ex- 
tending itself to the place of the cadence, defers for a long time, 
the ability to give with propriety and taste, the more composed 
and the graver purpose of the terminative phrase. 

Faults in the execution of the cadence are various. The most 
remarkable instance within my memory, is that of a clergyman, 
who in an address of nearly ten minutes' duration, never, to my 
observation, made a cadence^ not even at his final period. The 



FAULTS OF READERS. 557 

audience were suddenly notified to sit down, by his terminative 
Amen, not through the proper indication of the close by his 
voice. 

Even those who have the ability to make a cadence are infected 
by the next fault to be mentioned. 

I described the various forms of the cadence. This was done 
to point out all the distinctions that may be critically made by 
an accurate ear, and may perhaps be regarded in some future 
school of elocution. For present purposes, we may particularize 
the Feeble, the Duad, the Triad, and the Prepared cadences. 
These are quite sufficient for the ordinary purposes of reading-: 
and vocal skill can always effect an interchangeable variety of 
them, in the succession of periods. The next fault then consists 
in a repetition at every pause, of the same kind of cadence, and 
that generally the full or second form of the Triad. This fault is 
increased by common punctuation, which often sets a period at 
places, where the voice should be only suspended by the phrase of 
the downward ditone. A want of nicety too in varying the cadence 
according to the indication of the close, is a very general fault: 
for there is great clearness given to discourse, bj the just dis- 
cernment, that assigns a less reposing, or the feeble cadence, to 
loose sentences, or doubtful periods, and the full and prepared, to 
the end of a paragraph or chapter. 

I once heard an Actor of high character use, and not unfre- 
quently, what we formerly called a false cadence ; or a descent of 
the third by radical changej the second constituent of the Triad 
being altogether omitted. This false cadence is sometimes made 
on a wider discrete interval; the voice suddenly falling a fifth or 
even an octave, if the pitch has been high enough to allow these 
descents. 

Some persons are in the habit of making the cadence in a low 
and almost inaudible pitch. In this case the want of an anti- 
cipative ear, prevents a reader from hitting the precise place for 
his cadence. One who has not this skill, may know the period- 
pause is at hand, and that the voice should descend ; but ignorant 
at what point he ought to begin, and under fear of falling pre- 
cipitately upon the close, he prepares for it too soon. A down- 
ward second or ditone is first made, and some instinct preventing 



•358 FAULTS OF READERS. 

him from adding the next tone below, by which the cadence would 
be completed before its time, he adds a monotone, and again tries 
a downward ditone. In this manner he descends, till with an en- 
feebled voice, the cadence is made on the three final sylables. 
The process here described is not continued through many words; 
most readers would in that case soon exhaust their pitch. Yet 
this does sometimes happen; for the voice by this shelving course, 
is at last brought down to a husky quality, and sometimes becomes 
inaudible. 

Of Faults in the Intonation at Pauses. Under the preceding 
head, we described the forms and effect of false intonation, at the 
close of a period. Besides these, certain sub-pauses within the 
limits of a sentence, variously dividing it into members or por- 
tions, were called in our account of rythmus, pausal sections. To 
the eye, these are separated by the common punctuative marks, 
representing the duration of the pause. Yet this temporal rest 
alone is not sufficient in all cases, to prevent obscurity or mistake 
in the meaning of discourse. The comma and the period denote 
respectively, the least and the greatest degree of separation; and 
these with the intermediate sectional divisions, constitute the 
whole purpose of the temporal pause. Intonation however, per- 
forms an important part at these subdivisions. For the several 
pausal sections are variously related to each other; and these re- 
lations, in their various forms and degrees, are shown by the 
united means of the temporal rest, and the phrases of melody. 
In the twelfth section, we learned what phrases are proper for 
connecting, and separating the subdivided meaning of a sentence. 
Those who, with the light of our principles, may hereafter look 
into this subject, will perceve the fitness of the appropriation 
there made; and will moreover be struck by the violations of 
grammar, and of the rule of variety, so commonly heard among 
speakers; some of whom set a rising third or fifth at most of the 
sub-pauses, and even at the period itself. These improprieties 
must necessarily be frequent, from the character of the phrases 
of melody^ and consequently from the manner of applying them, 
being unknown. The Reader, I would fain beleve, can now fore- 
hear the several faults that might occur under this head; for cer- 
tainly the purpose of speech will be obscured, if a falling ditone 



FAULTS OF READERS. 559 

or tritone should be applied to that pause, where a continuative 
syntax calls for the monotone or the very reverse of these down- 
ward phrases. 

Of Faults in the Third. The third is properly employed in the 
moderate forms of interrogation, and on conditional phrases. 
Some readers however, execute the whole current melody in the 
rise of this interval. To those who recognize the uncolored dig- 
nity of the diatonic melody, this current of the third has the 
striking effect of a continued interrogative interval, which renders 
it unfit to be the ground for expressive speech. As a Drift it 
would be monotonous, and its similarity to the wider emphatic 
intervals weakens their effect, when required in its course. It is 
sharper in pitch than the diatonic melody, and consequently wants 
its dignity of character. I have heard persons with this fault try 
to read Milton, and Shakspeare, and the declaratory parts of the 
Church-service, and always, as appeared to me, without success. 
The current of dignified utterance must always consist of the 
wave of the second, on long quantities. No simple upward con- 
crete can effect it; though the rise of a wide interval may be 
occasionally employed for emphasis, in the gravest drift of the 
diatonic wave. 

It is a fault in the third, even when the whole current is not 
made by that interval^ to form all the emphases with it. This 
likewise gives a sharpness and monotony to speech ; for one of 
its proprieties as well as beauties, consists in a variation of em- 
phasis: and we pointed out, in its proper place, the abundant 
means for this variety. 

A current melody of the third in place of the second, is prin- 
cipally offensive by its monotony ; for the wider intervals, as we 
learned in the section on Drift, will not bear continued repetition. 

Of Faults in the Fifth. The interval of the fifth is sometimes 
improperly made the current concrete of melody. It is a less 
frequent fault than the last, and is more commonly heard in wo- 
men. Its monotony is still more impressive than that of the 
third; the whole melody having to a critical ear, the effect of an 
interrogative sentence. 

It is not so remarkable, when the emphases of a diatonic 
melody are made only by the fifth. This too has its sharpness 



560 FAULTS OF READERS. 

and monotony; and I am sure the Reader will be sufficiently 
guarded against this fault, by keeping in mind the ample re- 
sources of the voice, for a varied emphasis. 

Those who misplace the third, and fifth, are apt to carry them 
into the cadence. Such readers end many of their plain declara- 
tive sentences with the characteristic of a question. 

I might point out a similar error of place in the octave; though 
it is of rare occurrence, and only heard in the piercing treble of 
women. Some persons cannot put a question in the subdued and 
dignified form of the third or fifth, but always give it in the sharp- 
ness of the octave. 

Of Faults in the Downward Movement. Faults of the down- 
ward concrete, consist in not giving the emphasis of downward 
intervals in their just extent; in not applying them properly or 
at all, to exclamatory sentences, and to certain grammatical ques- 
tions that require a downward intonation. An improper use of 
the downward intervals is sometimes characteristic of a morose 
and saturnine temper, in persons who having no grace within 
themselves, have no voice of complaisance for others. 

Of Faults in the Discrete Movement. Of defects in the man- 
agement of the radical change of the second, in the diatonic 
melody, we have already spoken. Precipitate falls of the third, 
fifth, and octave, sometimes occur in the cadence of children and 
others, while learning to read. Some again are unable to make 
those upward and downward radical changes, by which accom- 
plished readers may hereafter accurately effect all the discrete 
transitions required for emphasis. 

Of Faults in the Wave. The wave of the second, both in its 
direct and inverted form, is plain and dignified in character, and 
therefore admissible into the diatonic melody as a drift. It is 
not so with the waves of wider intervals. They have their proper 
occasions as solitary emphasis; whereas the continued repetition 
of them becomes a disgusting fault. The wave, commonly af- 
fected by a certain puling class of readers, is the inverted-un- 
equalj the voice descending through the second, and rising 
through the third, or fifth. This fault is most remarkable in 
reading metrical composition; arising perhaps from our famili- 
arity with the union of song and versej and from a connection of 



FAULTS OF READERS. 561 

the art of reading, with the effect of the impressive intervals of 
its tune. Persons who read in this way, give a set melody to 
their lines; certain parts of each line, as far as the emphatic 
words permit, having a prominent intonation of the wave. 

Much of every form of the wave prevails in conversation ; and 
the general character of daily dialogue often makes it appropriate 
there. I have heard the coloquial twirl, even exaggerated by an 
Actress of great temporary reputation. Her style consisted of a 
continual recurrence of identical sections of melody, composed 
principally of the wider forms of the equal and unequal wave ; 
showing a vocal pertness, and a sort of vivid familiarity^ but 
wanting the brilliant propriety of execution, due from a performer 
of High Comedy to the Author. 

Some actors, and readers are prone to the use of the double 
wave. They make it the vocal twirl for every state of mind, 
thereby denoting their want of a varied and just intonation. It 
is an impressive agent, and is therefore, with an erroneous notion 
both of its purpose and place, often introduced to give prominent 
effect to melody. It has restrictively, its proper occasions; and 
let it be rememberedj there is a sneering petulance in its char- 
acter, totally inconsistent with dignity. 

Nothing is better calculated to show the propriety of the 
plain ground of the diatonic melody, than the repeated use of 
the wider waves. It includes the effects of faults in the third, 
and fifth, and consequently gives a florid and monotonous char- 
acter to speech. When such striking intonation is set on every 
important sylablej how shall we mark emphatic words, except by 
an excess in vocality, time, or force?* 

* The distinction, so often refered to in this essay, between the diatonic 
ground-work of melody, and the occasional expression of wider intervals judi- 
ciously employed upon it, is a great essential of effective and elegant elocution. 
According to our system, this difference was an ordination, to meet the re- 
spective demands of thought and passion. Without regard to it, no one can 
ever succede in tragedy, or in other dignified uses of speech; the diatonic melody 
alone, having the character appropriate to awe, solemnity, reverence, and grave 
deliberation. And although the Art of Speech, almost stone-deaf to the causa- 
tive agency, though not to the effects of intonation, has never yet been aware 
of this difference; still the purposes of truth and beauty in the voice, have 
herein never been without a witness. For he who advocates the principles of 
this Work, may, by now finding occasional instances of the use of the diatonic 



562 FAULTS OF READERS. 

Of Faults in Drift. The purposes both of truth and variety, 
in the art of Reading-Well, are effected by a delicate regard to 

melody, admit, that being founded on the thoughtive state of the mind, it must 
have been heard in every age of cultivated speech. Its rarity in the voices of 
women, is one cause why so few among them, are able to rise to the tragic 
dignity of the stage; although a pretty face, and other pretty attractions, may 
for a time serve them well enough, yet not over-well, in Comedy without it. 
They have so accustomed an undiscerning audience, and so habituated them- 
selves, to a puling affectation, which consists in a current melody of the wider 
intervals and waves, the semitone, and minor third; and are so ignorant or 
careless of their vocal duty, that they do not perceve, and therefore "will not be 
told, this is one among other causes of their frequent failure. For as the ob- 
scurity of histrionic description and criticism allows the inference, it is not im- 
probable that Mrs. Siddons, in the early part of her career, may, to an impres- 
sive degree^ though ignorant of its construction, and its rules; have instinctively 
employed the diatonic melody. An incident related by her biographer, Boaden, 
will perhaps, if elucidated by our analysis, lead to this conclusion. 

On her first interview with Garrick, Mrs. Siddons, then Miss Kemble, ' re- 
peated some of the speeches of Jane Shore before him. Garrick seemed highly 
pleased with her utterance, and her deportment;' and 'wondered how she had 
got rid of the Old Song, and the provincial Ti-tum-ti.'' 

All former criticism on intonation being, we may say uninteligible, we are 
left to discover, by the light of our analysis, what these terms, Old Song, and 
Ti-tum-ti, mean-. As the construction and the plain yet peculiar effect of the 
diatonic melody of speech, are widely different from the construction and the 
more vivid effect of song; and as a too frequent and improper use of the wave, 
the wider concrete and discrete intervals, the semitone and minor third, with 
their impressive intonations, when employed in speech, although far from being 
song, do yet more nearly resemble it than the diatonic melody does ; and further, 
as the term and notion of the trisylabic foot Ti-tum-ti, seems to be a rythmical 
perception of the ear, produced by a sort of regular return of florid and misap- 
plied intervals, described in the text, under the present head of faults of the 
wavej I cannot avoid thinking that Mrs. Siddons did, at this early period^ as I 
personally remember she did in after-life^ either in part if not altogether, in- 
stinctively execute the just diatonic melody: and that Garrick, though aware 
of its peculiar effect, yet as ignorant of its analysis as his Call-boy, had no other 
means for describing his perception of its dignity than that of giving to a con- 
trasted and strongly offensive style of utterance, the names of Ti-tum-ti, and Song. 
Nor can I avoid beleving, that Garrick, who could thus perceve the peculiar 
character of the plain or diatonic melody in others, must himself, without being 
aware of its structure and principles, have employed a well-marked expression 
of wider intervals, on the simple ground of a diatonic intonation; though never 
with its finished propriety and grace, under his then limited and imperfect, 
knowledge of the resources of the Art. 

Looking then to the two eminent instances now before us, I would be loth to 
regard them under that condition, which Guido so satirically assigned to 



FAULTS OF READERS. 563 

the correspondence between the states of mind, and their vocal 
signs, in individual words; and to the Drift, or continuation of a 
given state of mind, and character of voice, through one or more 
sentences; whereas a neglect of this adjustment will, according 
to its degree^ weaken the impression of speech, or shock the ear 
and taste of an auditor. Some readers continue the same vocal 
drift through every change of thought and passion ; others vary 
the character of the utterance, without adapting it strictly to 
these changes. 

We have learned that the most complete close of a paragraph 
or chapter, is made by the prepared cadence ; and that certain 
vocal means, and changes in the phrases of melody, formerly 
described, may be employed to prepare an audience for the be- 
ginning of a new subject, and to indicate the full consummation 
of the previous sectional or paragraphic pause. The neglect 
of a speaker on this point, may be considered a fault in partial 
Drift. 

As the reverse of this fault, we have the unexpected transitions 
from one style of utterance to another, without a corresponding 

singers, unenlightened by Science; but which may with truth be assigned, 
though not unkindly, to many a Roscius, even with all his so-called 'profound' 
and unwearied study and practice in his art^ 'Nam qui facit quod non sapit, 
definitur bestia.' ' For he who acts without a plan, Resembles more the brute 
than man.' 

It may perhaps be asked 3 how I could well discriminate the diatonic melody, 
at the time I was ignorant of its constituents and construction. I did not 
at that date know it by analysis, as it may now be known; yet its peculiar 
character and dignity, in the personations of Mrs. Siddons, so caught my ear, 
that after more than half a century, the effect of what I then heard, is still a sub- 
ject of my memory. And now that the Baconian system has, in its own words, 
warned us, not to raise experiments soley upon experiments, nor works soley 
upon works; but upon the '■forms' or general principles of works, to lay-down a 
broad foundation for progressive experiments; and by further showing the 
proper use of the senses, it has taught, and enabled me to unfold some of the 
principles of speech ; I find the effect on my memory, of the intonation of this 
remarkable Actress, is altogether similar to that of the now known, and named 
Diatonic Melody. 

This is by no means, an after-thought of conceit; for by a like remembrance, 
of an Interlude of Dancing-; Avhich followed her evening appearance in Volum- 
nia, or in Lady Macbeth, at Covent-Gardenj I still retain at command, the just 
time and intonation of a simple Gavot-Melody, though heard only there, and 
only once. 



56-4 FAULTS OF READERS. 

change of subject. I once heard an actor set the whole House 
into a hum of merriment, by making that answer of Jaffier to the 
conspirators;' 

Nay by Heaven I'll do this, 

in the curling quaintness of the wave. The character of Jaffier, the 
solemnity of the occasion, and the purpose of his entrance among 
the conspirators, are all at variance with the levity, conveyed 
by this sneering intonation. Severity of resolution is the ruling 
state of mind in Jaffier; and this calls for the energy of stress, 
together with the positiveness of a downward emphatic interval. 
And it seems to have been a perception of the ludicrous, from a 
contrast between the seriousness of the Character, and the pert- 
ness of the player, that caused the merriment: for the case, when 
duly considered, produces an impression of the instinctive pro- 
priety and taste of the Audience, and of the absence of both in 
the Player. They, although unaware of the principle, laughed 
at what was laughable. He, in the conceit of 'genius,' could not 
be serious at what was grave; and perhaps satisfied himself, that 
their laughter at the ridiculous, was to him, a complacent tribute 
of applause. 

I have tried in vain to find a term for the extraordinary transi- 
tions, sometimes heard on the Stage. They belong to the head 
of the faults of Drift: but we must speak of them as vocal pranks, 
without a name. I mean to designate, those abrupt changes from 
high to lowj from a roar to a whisperj from quick to slowj harsh 
to gentle^ from the diatonic melody to the chromatics from the 
gravity of long quantity, to the levity of sneer, to the quick 
stress of anger and mirth, or to the rapid mutterings of a madman. 

We had here, some years ago, a celebrated foreign Player from 
whom I draw this picture; though for impressive ilustration, per- 
haps slightly caricatured. His imitators, who have already dis- 
appeared, called themselves the school of ; a blank now 

to be well filled up, as the school of Ignorance and Outrage, with 
benches crowded by vociferating, I had nearly said 'Rowdy J 
admirers. 

A system of elocution may be defended, on either of two differ- 
ent grounds. The one, that it is a copy from nature : the other, 



FAULTS OF HEADERS. 565 

that it does artificially best answer the ends of speech. No 
apology for such flagitious transitions can be derived from either 
of these sources. I have seen persons under the highest excite- 
ment of natural not theatric passion, and changing from one de- 
gree and kind to another; but I have never heard anything even 
distantly like the harlequin-transformations of voice, above al- 
luded to, as applauded on the Stagej except in a paroxysm of 
womanish hysteria. On the other hand, supposing the practice 
to be founded on an artificial system^ we would make no objection, 
provided it could accomplish by conventional agreement, all the 
expressive purposes of speech. But what plea can that system 
urge, which perverts all the beauty and frugality of rule; which 
destroys, by its anomaly and abruptness, all the pleasures of 
habit, 'and anticipation; and takes from the fine arts, a delight 
in the boundless images, arising from the busy exercise of well- 
established knowledge. 

Where this fault of exaggeration does not arise from blunder- 
ing ignorance, or from slavish imitation, it is purposely assumed 
with the view to produce what the small vocabulary of dramatic 
criticism, calls 'Effect.' The Actor being deficient in the means 
of that truth and variety of expression, which only a knowledge 
of the resources of the voice, not the practice of the Stage, can 
afford, tries to help-out his uninstructed 'Genius' by breaking 
through the even tenor of an appropriate Drift, with some ear- 
starting stimulus or some unexpected collapse. 

.We should however, do some Actors the justice to beleve, that 
with a proper estimate both of nature and art, they must secretly 
disapprove of such things. Yet how shall we absolve them from 
the charge of submitting to what they must know to be only a 
blind conformity to the capricious fashion of applause; and of 
being 'willing to deceve the people because they will be deceved?' 
the easy art and resource of weakness, with cunning; and the 
wretched apology of ambition and knavery. It is the part of 
elevated intelect to undeceve the world, even by unwelcome truth ; 
to make all men at last bow down; and to be the master of de- 
monstration, instead of the slave of popular conceit. 

Faults in the Grouping of Speech. The Intonation at Pauses 
denotes the degrees of connection between the succeding sections 



56(3 FAULTS OF READERS. 

of discourse^ and between related words, within the limit of each. 
The Grouping of speech is variously intended to keep these sec- 
tions in a measure, independent of each other; to unite the train 
of thought within these sections, when broken by expletives, or 
by grammatical inversion: and to bring together on the ear, 
separated words, even from different sections. In this way the 
Temporal rest makes a distinct group of a section by dividing it 
from others. The Phrases of melodyj by the monotone, the rising 
ditone, and tritonej connect grammatical concords, when separated 
by intervening constructions. The Abatement groups as it were, 
within brackets of the voice and keeps together, what is heard 
under a reduced, or piano form of force. The Flight limits to 
itself, the meaning of what is embraced in a hurried utterance. 
The Emphatic-tie and the Punctuative-reference respectively, by 
stress and pause, group within the field of hearing, words and 
phrases, separated in construction, from each other. 

Faults in grouping arise from not applying these several forms 
as their purposes require; and ignorance of their design, and 
appropriate use, cannot fail to mar the perspicuity of oral dis- 
course. He who has a full knowledge of the means and efficacy 
of grouping, will, on this subject, be able with just principles, to 
criticise and correct the faults of others. 

Fault of Mimicry. In a previous page of this section, it was 
remarked, that imitations of speech, either serious, or for mirth, 
are generally copies of its faults. I am here to speak of the effect 
of Mimicry in corrupting the principles and practice of vocal 
expression. 

Under the prevalent creed of the Old elocution, this purpose 
may need explanation. The creed is, that all who speak with a 
perception of the thought and passion of their subject, speak with 
propriety. Nearly all persons both read and speak so differently 
from each other, that we plainly distinguish the intonations, joined 
with the other modes of the voice, in each individual. It is into- 
nation, with other modes, which constitutes the expression of 
speech: and we must allow that individuals universally utter their 
own thoughts and passions. This creed then carries with it the 
conclusion, that speech is not directed by a universal system of 
correspondence between the state of mind and the vocal signj but 



FAULTS OF READERS. 567 

that each individual must have for his states of mind, a peculiar 
system of signs, producing that distinguishable difference from 
all others, which we perceve in both his reading and his speaking 
voice. 

It would therefore follow, from the pretensions of this creed, 
that mimicry, by amusing itself with the peculiarities of all, so 
far from being injurious to the powers of speech, must on the 
contrary, tend to support and improve them. For, by this belief, 
all being supposed to speak their respective states of mind cor- 
rectly, while all speak differently, the mimic, who can assume the 
proprieties of each, must possess the faculty of acquiring the ex- 
celencies of all. It is well known, that the effects of mimicry 
depend on contrast^ and the contrast in this case, must be made, 
with some standard in the human voice. 

By the condition however, or consequence of the creed, the 
standard of each individual is his own individuality; and thus the 
standard is destroyed by its endless variations. Mimicry then, 
though able to assume the vocal ability of all, cannot, from the 
want of a standard, assign to any one a comparative excelence, or 
superiority: and though it may, by universal imitation, add to 
its powers a superfluous flexibility, it cannot, from the want of 
this measure of excelence, improve or exalt itself. And as it must 
necessarily, from the vast amount of worldly falsehood and bad 
taste, be more frequently employed on vulgarity and exaggera- 
tion, than on truth and refinement, its constant tendency must be 
to error and degradation. 

Mimicry in speech is the exact, or caricatured imitation of its 
faults. It must therefore be founded on a perverted, or extrava- 
gant employment of the various forms of Vocality, Time, Force, 
Abruptness and Pitch. Mimicry is the result of the ignorance 
and error of man, in the uses of his voice. With all his imita- 
tionsj except they remind him of his own defects of body or mind, 
or of his want of dignity in the imitation^ he cannot turn into 
ridicule, the unviolated law of nature within the whole range of 
the sub-animal voice. In the deformities, and errors of his own, 
he is the fit subject of his own contempt. Had the true and ex- 
pressive system of that voice, been developed and taught, there 
would have been, as in grammar, few faults, except upon the vul- 



568 FAULTS OF READERS. 

gar tongue; and perhaps no mimicry, worthy of an inteligent 
smile, in speech. The order of Nature, with all things aright 
except untoward Man, has by its fitness, its self-accordance, its 
serious truth, and its beauty, excluded every cause of the Ridicu- 
lous from her works: and an elocution that elegantly obeys her 
laws, cannot be mimicked for the amusement of a discerning and 
respectful ear. 

Mimicry is not only founded on faults, but it contributes to 
multiply and to confirm them. It multiplies faults, by confound- 
ing those just perceptions, that might discern and prevent, or 
correct them; and it confirms them in the mimic, by giving to a 
habit of distortion, the force of second nature in his voice. Mim- 
icry weakens and perverts the powers of expression, by confusing 
its signs, in representing the same state of mind, as differently 
expressed by different individuals: when in common consistency 
it should always have the same appropriate vocal sign. One 
cause of our not readily perceving the true system of speech is, 
that the ordained connection of sign and state of mind, is in the 
corrupt practice of the greater part of mankind, confounded, by 
the same state being expressed in so many different ways. How 
much then, must the mimic be at fault, and the whole purpose of 
his speech perverted, by the endless variety and exaggerated de- 
gree of false expression, constantly upon his ear? Few mimics 
are able to rise to the character of dignified utterance ; and when 
they even seriously imitate accomplished speakers, it is always in 
their accidental defects; for these only give the amusing charac- 
teristics. Some of the better class of Actors possess a power of 
mimicry: but as I have known them, they have wanted a high 
refinement and finish, in the truthful representation of thought 
and passion. And so it ought to be: and so it will be regarded 
hereafter, if in our present history of Nature there is a true repre- 
sentation of the system of her wise and efficient laws. 

And here let me not unmindfully say, that if observation had 
not, by accident, afforded me the light, and the defense of this 
natural ordination of the voice, I would not have dared, nor even 
thought, to touch the mantle of renown, that wraps the Histrionic 
character of the Immortal Garrick. But when I see him, in that 
Emblematic Portrait of his fame, equally affected to the Comic, 



FAULTS OF READERS. 569 

and the Tragic Muse; and hear, that he could both by taste and 
habit, mask the expressive features of his elocution, by an ex- 
aggerated and distorted mimicry, I grieve to think that my 
memorial perception must lose a single ray, from the bright and 
welcome vision of his canonized Perfection. 

Such, from its very character, must, to a greater or less ex- 
tent, be the effect of mimicry, even on the finest mould of nature 
in the unenlightened human voice. How far a full and accurate 
knowledge and use of all the means, ordained for truth and ele- 
gance of expression, with a perfect discrimination between the 
right and the wrong in speech, may enable an accomplished Actor 
habitually to practice the deformities, without infecting the graces 
of utterance, must be determined by the opportunities of future 
experience. At present, it is well to keep the tongue away from 
the contaminating company of its own infectious faults. -For it- 
is with our voices, as with our morals; the habit of doing only 
right, most effectually preserves us from wrong: and it is no less 
dangerous, to play with mischief in the one, than to amuse our- 
selves with mockery in the other.* 

An inquiry into the subject of mimicry, will afford a further 
view of the consistency of the whole science of expression, set- 
forth in this essay. For if correct and elegant speech requires 
the employment of the vocal constituents, in their proper places, 
in their proper successions, and in due proportion to each other, 
it will furnish, if the Reader yet doubtsj some support to this 
recorded system, to findj the violation of its rules, by a mis- 
placed, or over-proportioned, or exclusive use of certain of these 
constituents is productive of a palling monotony, or a grotesk 
caricature. 

* In the early period of life. I had to a certain degree the power of mimicry: 
and the ability to imitate the human and sub-animal voice, has assisted me in 
discriminating by contrast, the graces of utterance, in recording many of its 
faults. Since the development of the vocal constituents, with a habitual prac- 
tice of the means, and experience of the effects, of a true, appropriate, and ele- 
gant speech, the readiness and precision of that mimicry is much impaired: 
and partially lost: without however, the least diminution of acuteness, in the 
measurement of time and tune, when now in my eighty-second year, enlarging 
the sixth edition of this Work. I cannot say how it would have been, had 
mimicry been a purpose of business or ambition. 

37 



570 FAULTS OF READERS. 

Of Monotony of Voice. This is an old term in elocution; but 
it is here used with a more extensive signification than formerly. 
It means in general, the undue continuation of any function of 
the voice. 

One can scarcely point-out an occasion, on which the simple 
rise of the second, or the diatonic wave, has this effect; for ac- 
cording to our system, these are properly the most frequent of 
the continuous styles of discourse. The use of the second, in 
place of another interval, may sometimes be an error in expres- 
sion, but we do not call it monotony. The chromatic melody, 
though a continuation of the impressive interval of the semitone, 
is not monotonous, if its plaintiveness is suited to the state of 
mind: but many other constituents, when spread over discourse, 
offend by this fault. A repeated succession of the same phrases 
in the current ; the same kind of cadence, particularly if it fre- 
quently occurs ; a melody formed on the third, or fifth; a restric- 
tion of emphasis to the third, or fifth, or octave; a constant use 
of the accent and emphasis of the radical, the vanishing, or the 
thorough stressj of the, tremor 3 and of the downward wider inter- 
vals; too free a use of remote skips in the radical change, both 
in the current, and the cadencej of the wider and unequal wavesj 
with the protracted notes of song, may each become the cause of 
monotony. And it may be again remarked, that all constituents 
severally allotted to the rare occasions of emphasis, seem to be 
protected against the fault of undue repetition, not only by their 
violating the vocal rules for thought and expression, but by pro- 
ducing at the same time, an offensive monotony. 

Of Ranting in Speech. This fault consists in the excess of 
certain functions. These are loudness; violence in the radical, 
and the vanishing stresses ; and in general, an over-doing of just 
expression, when united with unnecessary force. 

Of Affectation in Speech. This consists in an imbecile perver- 
sion of the proper use of articulation, and of the intervals of 
pitch, with a mincing awkwardness, that always attends the ac- 
tions of personal conceit. 

Of Mouthing in Speech. This belongs properly to the head of 
the faults of articulation ; and refers to deviations from stand- 
ard pronunciation ; of which it is not my intention to speak par- 
ticularly. 



FAULTS OF READERS. 571 

Mouthing consists in the improper employment of the lips in 
utterance. 

Some of the tonic elements, and one of the subtonics are made 
by the assistance of the lips. They are o-we, oo-ze, ou-r, and m. 
When these abound it may, without precaution on the part of the 
speaker, lead to mouthing. All the other subtonics may be to a 
degree, infected with this fault. It slightly infuses the sound of 
the o-we or oo-ze into their vocality; for the protrusion of the 
lips, gives something of this character even to a lingual element. 
Mouthing may be called a form of affectation. 

I might here give a particular description of the voices of 
Childhood and of Age: for these may be looked upon as faults, 
when compared with the full-formed, vigorous, and varied utter- 
ance of intermediate periods. Our analysis will enable an ob- 
servant Reader to discover their respective characters. He will 
find the voice of childhood to be high in pitch, vividly monotonous 
in melody, and defective in cadence, with nothing, except parental 
doting to reconcile the ear to its screeching intonation; which in 
its piercing and untunable noise from mingling hundreds 'just let 
loose from school ' is a nuisance well deserving the rod of a Cor- 
rectional Police, in every community that vainly hopes, by a lit- 
tle reading, writing, and arithmetic, to banish ignorance, raise up 
a commonwealth of industrious, wise, and virtuous citizens, and to 
quiet the disorderly passions of mankind. He will find old age 
to be slow, with frequent pauses, feeble radical stress, tremulous, 
occasionally breaking into the falsette, and piping the childish 
treble in his voice. 

The faults here enumerated, are more or less common among 
those who pass for good, and often the best Readers and Actors. 
When instruction shall be derived from the Natural Philosophy 
of speech, and not from the egotism of untaught 'genius,' nor 
the varying and contradictory examples it pretends to set-up for 
Imitation^ the defects and deformities of utterance from these 
sources, now equally prevalent in the higher and the humble class 
of readers, will like the faults of grammar, be confined to the 
uneducated and the careless. 

I have described the faults of speakers under general heads, 
and in their separate forms. They are heard in bad speakers, 



blZ FAULTS OF READERS. 

under all possible combinations: but the permutations would defy 
every attempt towards a useful arrangement. The contemplation 
of the subject is therefore left as a task for the Reader. 

Should the principles of this Work ever prevail, and Speech 
hereafter become a Liberal and Elegant Art, it may be foundj the 
faults described in this section, as infecting the whole world of 
elocution, will have so far passed away, that the picture here ex- 
hibited, will seem to have been overdrawn. But when were the 
excelencies of Art, or Wisdom, or Worth, ever universal or even 
common? There will always remain in this motly world, pos- 
terity enough of those who now defeat the designs of Nature, and 
mar the mind-directed music and expression of speech, to show to 
another age, that I may not unfairly have recorded, the almost 
universal prevalence of this deafness and deformity, throughout 
the great family of their vocal ancestors.* 

* Having endeavored to show, that the descriptions offered in this essay, are 
drawn from Nature^ to furnish the sure foundation of a system for all times, 
and for all cultivated nations; and having further, shown that faults, being 
a misapplication of the constituents of a just and elegant speech, must of 
necessity, be universally of a similar character, among those who disregard the 
principles of that just and elegant speech : I have only to add here, as it might 
perhaps be required, some support to this conclusion. 

During my residence at Rome, in the winter of eighteen hundred and forty- 
six — seven, I was present at an annual exhibition of the scholars of the Propa- 
ganda. From pencil-notes taken at the time, on the margin of a programme of 
the exercises, and briefly recording my perception of the character of the elocu- 
tion, I make the following summary. 

The speakers numbered from fifty to sixty, men and boys; apparently from the 
age of twelve to five and twenty; of various colors, visages, and languages; and 
from countries of different degrees of ignorance, and of civilization, between 
the longitude of eastern China, and that of the Allegany mountains. As 
each and all of these individuals must have had the respective forms of their 
intonation, and of the other modes of the voice, determined and fixed by early 
habit in their native country^ they could have undergone no material change 
in the Roman school. Yet the proprieties of speech, if any, and all its faults, 
whether in form, degree, or misapplied expression, were the same as those we 
have enumerated in the English voice. No matter, to what sylabic sound, or 
structure of language they had been born, there was colectively among them, 
the same vicious variety in the uses of time, force, vocality, abruptness and 
intonation, as with ourselves; and as with us of the Saxon, Celtic, Gaulish, 
and Teutonic tongues^ one vast predominance of faults. Still, when closely 
listening to the right, the wrong, and the peculiar, I heard nothing in form, or 
even in queerness or exaggeration, that I had not seemingly heard before. 



FAULTS OF READERS. 573 

In describing the faults of readers, and on other occasions in 
this essay, I have refered to eminent, as well as to exceptionable 
examples, in the vocal practice of the Stage. The Actor holds 
both for purpose and opportunity, the first and most observed 
position in the Art of Elocution-; and should long have been our 
best and all-sufficient Master in its School. The Senate, the 
Pulpit, and the Bar, with the verbal means of argument or per- 
suasion almost exclusively before them, have so earnestly, or art- 
fully pursued these leading interests, that they have not observed, 
nor apparently, wished to observe, how far the cultivated powers 
of the voice might have assisted the honest or the ambitious pur- 
pose of their oratory. But with the Stage, speech is in itself, the 
means and the end of Histrionic distinction; for however the 
Actor may be unduly influenced by applause, this applause is 
supposed to be attainable, only through the expressive powers of 
his voice. It has therefore been towards the Stage alone, that 
criticism has shown a disposition, formally to direct its vague and 
limited rules of vocal propriety and taste. The Stage however has 
not fulfiled the duties of its position ; for though holding the highest 
place of influential example in the art, and enjoying the im- 
mediate rewards of popularity, it has done little more than keep- 
up the tradition of its business and rotine$ and tediously record 
the personalities, engagements, retirement, and every sort of anec- 
dote of its renowned Performers; without one serious thought of 
turning a discriminative ear to their vocal excelence, and thereby 
affording available instruction, on the means of their success; its 
distinguished Performers themselves, through all generations, ap- 
pearing more culpably, in the condition of too many others in 
exalted stations, who have not so much desired to fulfil the trusts 
of their Stewardship, as to acquire wealth and influence and dis- 
tinction for themselves.* 

In short, the destined swarthy wanderer of the Propaganda, with his aimless 
and chaotic efforts in speech, and the accomplished Queens of song from the 
Conservatorio, with their desecration, so to speak, of expression in Recitative, 
are more nearly assimilated, in these vices of intonation, than their difference 
in complexion and in glory will allow the pride of the Opera to acknowledge. 

* Shortly after the publication of this Work, I was asked by a friendly Judges 
how I came to write it; for he had supposed it would have been written by some 
Public Speaker. But Judges deliver opinions; and the whole line of historical 



574 FAULTS OF READERS. 

For this particular state of Histrionic Art. there must be a 
causej and as the preceding analysis has enabled us to explain 
some faults universally infecting the voice, we may here properly 
inquire^ why elocution has not been able to assume an inteligent, 
systematic, and respected authority on the Stage. Speech is the 
audible sign of the thoughtive and passionative character of man; 
it will appear then, the peculiar faults of the Stage procede 
from a limited and a mystic state of mind in the Actor. I there- 
fore devote a few remaining pages to the subject-; 

Of the Faults of Stage- Per donation. The most general and in- 
fluential cause from which many of the faults of the Actor seem 
to arise, and under which, knowledge in his art has never been 
either* communicable or progressive^ is the delusive assumption, 
so fatal to a clear and practical use of the mind, that his pur- 
poses are effected by certain ' innate powers ' or ' spiritual gifts ' 
independently of all instruction ; that so far from being the result 
of the plain and universal rule of successful physical thought and 
actionj the expression of his Enacted Character, like that vulgar 
notion of the 'fine madness' of poetical invention, is the effect of 
a peculiar histrionic 'phrensy' of passion, with the 'inspired em- 
bodiment' of its signs in the countenance and the voice. 

This mysticism of the school of Acting has divided its eminent 
disciples into two Classes. The First has a sort of double exist- 
ence, consisting, at one time, of its common animal attributes of 
motion, sensation and thought; at another, of the 'spiritual' re- 

k Reports' furnishes only a single Case-in -point, to my friend's supposition: for 
of all the Orators, Demosthenes alone is said to have tried vocal instruction; in 
teaching himself to pronounce the elements, by holding pebbles in his mouth. 
The invention and the belief of this silly story show the ignorance and the 
credulity, on the subject of the voice, among the Ancients. Yet the 'theory' 
of the process seems to have been no less impracticable then than it is now; for 
it appears, he never had a second scholar in the same pebble-way. And gen- 
erally, it would be strange for an Orator to teach elocution, when he beleves it 
to be a heaven-bom gift, that cannot be taught. 

Though I have heard and heard- of, Great Speakers who have won 'golden 
opinions' by their 'silver tonesj' I have always found, it was what they said, 
not how they said it, that set their party whi^ers-in, beneath 'Hotel-windows,' 
and around 'the table,' in a roar. True however it is, that Orators with the 
exception of Quinctilian, if he was one, neither write books on Elocution for 
others^ nor read books on Elocution to instruct themselves. 






FAULTS OF READERS. 575 

presentation of the language of the poet. In one of these lives, 
the actor prepares for his part, according to his own conception 
of it, or to the traditionary rules of the Green Room-> and for his 
scenic relationships to the rest of the Company, goes to Re- 
hearsal, with his everyday mind, speech, and apparel. This is 
the personal life of the actor. In the other life he is before the 
audience, and has entered into a 'spiritual existence' with the 
poet. Here, all self^perception is lost; he is sensuous to nothing, 
and has only an indescribable notion of the commingling of his 
own enacting 'soul,' with the rhetorical 'soul' of his author; 
thus entering with him into one co-efficient expression of gesture, 
countenance, and voice. This state of an actor, in losing his 
'consciousness,' in the metaphysical 'ideality' of the character, 
is called Identity. And as I can comprehend his bodily and 
mental condition, the actor seems to think, move, and speak in a 
peculiar kind of Trance.* 

* An Actor, or Personator on the Stage, whatever his fictional school may 
teach, can no more, intelectually and passionately, beleve or feel himself to be 
the character he represents, than -he can, in physical perception feel the pain 
of his friend, or taste the food that gratifies him. If he should in mind, for he 
cannot in person, be or appear to himself to be another, he must, in mind, 
cease to be himself: and therefore cannot, in thought and passion, become 
another, except, if even that is possible, in delirium or a dream. Nor is there 
the least necessity that he should in acting, appear to himself to be another, in 
order to Act well. Wicked and foolish as man is in most of his affairs, it would 
be appalling to think what he might be, if human nature had not been made, in 
all things and everywhere alike. We are therefore, by birth and education, 
identical with one another; without its being a peculiar effort of 'genius' in a 
Player to feign himself so, and this is the opinion of the world; as we all know, 
what a social, moral, political, and religious commotion is produced by a single 
individual of name and station, who questions conformity, and observes and 
thinks for himself. He is marked as a dangerous character. Difference from 
the rest of the world in observation and thought, which are the charm of life, is 
rare; but in passion, which is almost the whole life itself of man, it is impossi- 
ble. If by internal motive, or external impression, thoughts are excited into pas- 
sion, we must show or enact it, in like manner with others. For although with 
some variation of degree and manner, the passion itself, in mental perception 
and outward action, is similar in all. 

It is not necessary then, to 'enter into' or 'feel' the passion of another; we 
are already in it, by a similar constitution; and have only to perceve and ex- 
press it, as properly our own, when excited within us either by the voice of the 
orator, or the written language of the historian and the poet. 

In ilustration, let us suppose an Actor to have the education, thought, pas- 



576 FAULTS OF READERS. 

The Second Class, though altogether different in its character 
from that of Identity, is no less mystical in its account of itself. 
But as I do not comprehend the account of that unthinking and 

sion and physical means for expression, like the best of his class; and to enact 
the part of Hamlet, before the Ghost of his Father. He has then in his mind, 
the thoughts of doubt, disbelief, inquiry, and of the present supernatural event. 
The passions or vivid perceptions that affect and absorb, not entrance him, 
are horror, astonishment, reverence, affection, and revenge. These common 
thoughts and passions are, either from Nature or from habit, so at command, 
'that a man might play them^' as Shakspeare analytically and truly describes 
itj by 'forcing his soul to its own conceit,'' not into Identity with the thought or 
conceit of another: for so far as they have been experienced, and no farther, 
can they be mentally known, and expressed. No one has felt them, in the case 
before us, with the vividness of life, but the supposed once-existing Hamlet: 
and therefore the Actor may raise within himself a certain form and degree 
of those thoughts and passions, but cannot become identical with Hamlet, 
even if good acting should require it. He is then only identical, so to speak, 
with himself, upon the experienced forms and degrees of his own passion and 
thought. 

The Actor's perception of Identity, compared with the plain phenomena of the 
mind and the voice, would seem to have arisen from one of these visionary views 
of Stage-personation^ either that the state of mind ascribed to a Character, is to 
be represented by the Actor being really excited to the exact state of mind 
ascribed to that character, which is but a metaphysical notion; or by his trying 
to forget himself, and in thought and passion, to become, as if absolutely another, 
which is a hopeless metaphysical task. 

How far, iu the case before us, the Actor is to become identical with the 
Poet, is another subject for consideration: and this leads to the inquiry, how 
far Shakspeare designed to identify himself in thought and passion with the 
thinking and suffering of the once-existing Hamlet. If a Poet should become 
identical as he thinks, with some pre-existing model, and upon that identity, 
should draw the character from himself; the Actor, in identifying himself 
with the character, would necessarily become identical, so to call it, with 
the poet. I have nothing to say here, on what a poet might think of him- 
self; for he may have his delusions, as well as the actor. With all respect 
however for the poet, even one in truth and greatness of thought, we maintain, 
that he, in no case becomes identical with the character he describes. How it 
may be with a character he altogether creates, if a poet ever did so create, I 
leave for poets, who work with 'transcendental spiritualities' to decide. When 
the costume, together with the language of thought and passion of a Character, 
is assumed by the Actor; and he has to move and to speak like that character, 
he might possibly seem to himself to have some slight cause for beleving, 
against his senses, that he is the very character: like Christopher Sly in the 
Play, who, with so many persuaders towards his delusion, exclaims at last, 
' Upon rny life, I am a Lord indeed.' But how can the poet find a point of ap- 
proach to similarity, much less enter into Identity with his character, either 



FAULTS OF RBADEES. 577 

inexpressive histrionic machinery, by which an Actor affects an 
audience, I shall, in noticing the subject, be obliged to quote the 
words of the initiated, who pretend to describe it. 

It has long been a question among Actors and Stage- critics^ 
whether he who excites most passion in his audience, is neces- 
sarily excited and directed by passion within himself. This 
Platonic, or soul-dealing, and therefore disputatious and inter- 
minable question, seems so clearly, to have arisen from a belief 
in the 'Spirituality' of Expression, supported by a determined 
ignorance of the describable forms of the speaking voice, and of 
their physical power in representing thought and passion, that I 
need not show, by our present light of analysis, in what manner 
it has contributed to prevent a progressive observation of the 
exact and beautiful co-relation between the mind and the voice. 
The maxim of Horace^ 'if you wish me to weep, you must your- 
self first l feeV your woes,' has so far either convinced, or misled 
his readers, that, under either of these two influences, I would 
not have here introduced the subject of this confounding ques- 
tion, if I had not met with the following confounding attempt to 
announce it. 

'The actor of an opposite school,' says the Autobiography of 
an Actress, chapter thirteen, ' if he be a thorough artist, is more 
sure of producing startling effects. He stands unmoved amidst 
the boisterous seas, the whirlwinds of passion swelling around 
him. He exercises perfect command over the emotions of the 
audience; seems to hold their heart-strings in his hands, to play 
upon their sympathies, as on an instrument; to electrify or sub- 
historical or created;* when spreading his memorial perception for his task, he 
gradually and line by line, selects from its amplitude ; and roaming, in his ex- 
cursions after everything, returns with a gathered choice of thoughts, char- 
acters, manners, imagery, and language: and all this effected in time, and suc- 
cession, by a Shakspearej only a high example here^ identical with his own 
classifying power, and the grace and grandeur of its taste. What has he, in 
drawing the character of Hamlet, to do with contracting himself into a fixed and 
momentary identity with such a passing and everyday personage as a former 
Prince of Denmark? 

Leaving Identity then to its own Notional fate, the case seems to be^ that the 
Poet should, or does add what he pleases, to the original traits of a character 
furnished by history ; and the Actor adds what he has learned, to be the proper 
vocal-representation of a character furnished by the poet. 



578 FAULTS OF READERS. 

due his hearers by an effort of volition; but not a pulse in his 
own frame, beats more rapidly than its wont. His personifica- 
tions are cut out of marble; they are grand, sublime, but no heart 
throbs within the life-like sculpture. Such was the school of the 
great Talma. This absolute power over others, combined with 
perfect self-command, is pronounced by a certain class of critics, 
the perfection of dramatic Art.' And then, to show the differ- 
ence between the actor who draws from the depth of his identical 
' soul,' and him who only appears to do so, we have the following 
fact. 'I have acted with distinguished tragedians, who after some 
significant bursts of pathos, which seemed wrung from the utmost 
depths of the soul, while the audience were deafening themselves, 
and us, with their frantic applause, quietly turned to their breth- 
ren, with a comical grimace, and a few muttered words of satiri- 
cal humor, that caused an irresistible burst of laughter.' The 
reader, if he looks for meaning and precision in language, must 
find out if he can, and then say for himself, what all this account 
of Great Acting means, whether in the school of Identity, or of 
Talma. In me, it produces not a single definite perception of the 
kinds, degrees, purposes, and effects of thought and passion, nor 
of the character and management of the personal and vocal signs 
that express them.* 

* In addition to this visionary attempt to describe the manner of an accom- 
plished Actor, by transforming him into a 'stoic' of the Stage, 'a man without 
a tear;' and still further to justify our opinion of elocutionary discrimination, 
I select from a fashionable authority of the day, the following attempt, of a some- 
what different character, but quite as uninteligible ; and showing that delusion 
of the mind which at times, overcomes us all when with words alone, we make 
a picture to ourselves, wherein no one else can recognize a clear representation 
of things. 

Madame de Stael, whom I quote at second hand, from an English writer, 
somewhere speaks of Talma in these words: 'There is in the voice of this man 
a magic which I cannot describe; which from the first moment, when its ac- 
cent is heard, awakens all the sympathies of the heart ; all the charms of music, 
of painting, of sculpture, and of poetry; but above all, of the language of the 
soul.' 

It is always of great importance, to distinguish between a particular expla- 
nation of an object or action, and the self-absorbed writer's description of his 
own thoughts and feelings upon it: a point neglected in nine cases out of ten, 
in all past and present histrionic criticism. If a writer, in the selfish agonies 
of his own delights, and in the vagueness, of his 'transcendental abstractions,' 



FAULTS OF READERS. 579 

In seeking instruction from others, not only in philosophy, but 
in the higher poetry^ for this has taught me much even of physi- 
cal nature, and more of the human mindj I have so accustomed 
myself to regard the simple truth-prints of traceable description, 
that my comprehension is often at fault, in the trackless pursuit 
of a metaphysical meaning; whether in the mischievous visions 
of Plato, with his 'arithmetic mediums,' and his 'procreations of 
the soul;' in the equally incomprehensible, yet far less rhetorical 
and methodic dreams of his later pupils, Jacob Behmen and 
Emanuel Kant ; or in the unassignable notions of histrionic prin- 
ciples and criticism. And although we may be unable to follow 
the mystic visions of the schools of Actings it is not so difficult, 
with a little patience on the part of the Reader, to inform, or 
remind him whence they are derived. 

The Greeks, unfortunately in some things our teachers, re- 
ceved so much of their Philosophical Fiction from Egypt and the 
East, that it is impossible to say, to what extent they invented, 
or how far they only altered and dressed- up the fable: it is how- 
declares that the manner of an Actor, 'cannot be described/ the reader who is 
obliged to rely altogether on description, is not to be reprehended, especially 
when there is ' soul and magic' in the case, if he can have no perception of it. 
In general, as an appendage to such a rhapsody as the preceding^ a writer, 
after acknowledging his inability to explain the thing itself, should at least, 
attempt to describe what he means by his own metaphysical notion of it; a 
task perhaps still more difficult. 

It is my misfortune never to have heard the celebrated Talma. Nor has that 
loss been otherwise supplied: for with due respect to the memory of an Actor 
whom I did not know, I would fain not ascribe to him a florid and outrageous 
intonation of wider intervals and waves, that I once heard from a declaimer, 
who was said to be his pupil and imitator: and all the descriptive terms I have 
met with, in critical eulogies on his elocution, have given me only an indefinite 
account of his knowledge and management of the voice, whatever that may have 
been: and the egregious misperceptions among the few as well as the many, on 
subjects like this^ together with what I know by our principles, to be the exag- 
gerated intonation of French Tragedy-; would leave me equally open to belief, 
or to doubt-j were a question on this point to be raised on the reality of the 
merit universally ascribed to him. 

If this declaration should shock the partiality, I do not say impeach the dis- 
crimination, of an admirer, it may perhaps moderate his revolting astonish- 
ment, when he has studiously read this volume, and compared it with the leaves 
whence it was copied, in the great Biblos of Nature, always open for reference, 
before him. 



580 FAULTS OF READERS. 

ever certain, that having contrived, or adopted the imposition, 
they afterwards blindly went along with it. It was according to 
the vain and groping purposes of the Greek philosophers, that 
when they desired to know the truth, they could not find a meta- 
physical, and would not take the plain and physical way, to learn 
it. Observing how much time and labor were necessary for ac- 
quiring a knowledge of the frame and laws of nature, by what 
appeared to them a tedious use of the senses, they resolved to 
accomplish it more easily by a 'pure intelection of the soul.' In 
this fictional process, assuming, according to the human method 
of Design and Construction, that the world was made from an 
'ideal design,' or what they called a Pattern-Form of the world 
previously existing in the mind of the Creator; and that the mind 
of man, made in the image of the Creative-Mind, was a humble 
finite offspring of its all-glorious infinity. And further, observing*, 
for they did add an allowed mite of experience to their fictions^ 
really observing, I say, the human mind to be capable of unlimited 
improvement, they thereupon conceited that in abstracting itself 
from the uninstructive and contaminating company of the senses, 
as well as from all other disturbing influences of this mortal life, 
it might, by a long and contemplative exercise of its own powers 
on its uncorrupted self, hopefully ascend towards the Creative 
Mind, and reach at last, its Parent-state of intelectual perfection, 
and immortality: that the Mind then purified, returning to its 
omnicient Father, and being made partaker of his knowledge, 
might come at last, though still residing within an earthly form, 
to behold his pattern of creation, and by access to the construc- 
tive designs, be able to comprehend the plan, the purpose, and 
the workmanship of all things. This process of Contemplation, 
was a product, and part of what the Greeks termed the sublime 
Abstraction of their First Philosophy; now indeed to us, first 
and greatest in fictional pretension, but last and least, in use- 
fulness and truth ; and which, if not originally designed to impose 
on ignorance, did subsequently pervert the mind to that state of 
metaphysical credulity, by which it still imposes on itself. 

It was this, together with other distracting fictions of the First 
Philosophy, that so early and so fatally confused and corrupted 
the now, alas ! irrestorable simplicity of the Christian Religion ; 



FAULTS OF READERS. 581 

a religion intended by its Author to be practically a general 
moral blessing; andj in discarding the quarrelsome notions, and 
verbosity of the Grecian Schoolj to embrace an uncontentious 
system, with its decisive meaning of Tea, or Nay, for those who 
have 'ears to hear' unworried truth: not a religion of Platonic 
figments, and Aristotelian quibbles, for those who deafen their 
perceptions to the unarguing brevity of these two short verdict- 
words of Belief or Denial; and who by rejecting this unsophistic, 
this all-sufficient, this conclusive, this practical, and this peaceful 
purpose of the Original Christianity, have, with a heavy respon- 
sibility for their evil-doing, given themselves up, universally and 
world-without-end, to doctrinize, to wrangle, and to hate. 

This, which withdrew the Platonic Pietist from the visible 
world, to contemplate with inward but with filmy eyes, his own 
fanatic selfishness; thereby to raise himself to a communion with 
angels and saints, at the right hand of his Maker; and to pro- 
claim, with audacious triumph, his accomplished Beatitude. This, 
which led the Hermit and the Monk, to Platonic war against the 
senses; to retreat to the savage wilderness, and the Cell, before 
the overpowering civilization of their truth; and to seek a refuge 
at last, by trying to think, and to mortify themselves into Hea- 
ven. The Greeks began their philosophical but foolish method, 
with only disregarding the Truth of the Senses. The religious 
Anchorite, following up his Platonic creed, ended with the Impi- 
ous attempt to thwart the purpose of his God, in ordaining its 
supremacy. 

It is this irreligious sundering of heaven from the universe of 
material things, that ' God has joined together,' which still haunts 
the narrow-minded Bigot ; who under the venerable authority of 
his Pagan philosophy, continues to separate the senses from con- 
templation: but which, in the fulness of wisdom, and of works, 
the beneficent Bacon, in mental saviorship, has taught us to re- 
unite. It is this Contemplation, still uncontroled by physical 
perception, and falling into visions, that enables every new Sec- 
tarian Leader, to conceit his own way to the will of his Maker, 
and to bring back from his own egotistical invention, another, 
and still another message of grace, to overfill the world with dis' 
cord and with dreams. 



582 FAULTS OF READERS. 

A modification of this system, still makes the Physician o 
Every School, pretend to see with his mind's eye, and that a 
blind one, those fictions of invisible causation in the human body, 
which produce the infinite succession of quarrelsome Speculations, 
the ever-varied Nomenclature, and the never-satisfying Practice 
of his Dogmatic Art ; yet so inseparable from the weakness and 
indecision, always co-existent in the mind, with fictional and 
fashionable changes in opinion. 

It is to the universality of this vice of thinking and beleving 
without the Mastership of the senses, that, according to our igno 
ranee, or our ill use of knowledge, we owe the wildness of Grecian 
♦Spiritualism, still imposed upon usj in the dates and postpone 
ments of Millennial Prophets; in conjuring-down the Rapping 
Phantoms of the dead; and in the Epicurean doctrine of atoms, 
revived in modern chemistry, with no other prospect than that of 
giving way in time, to some new supposition. 

And finally, a view of this Vice will discover the source of that 
absurd 'idealism' of the Actor, and of his self-sufficient metaphy 
sical 'genius' in his attempt to describe his own conception of 
his characters, and of himself. 

If there is no cause for a work, the cause being here, only the 
adaptation of means to an end, there can properly be neither be- 
ginning nor end to the work ; and if not eminent causes, there 
can be no excelence. Nature certainly has wise purposes in her 
work, and although she never tells them, except by her spon- 
taneous actions, she does not always prevent our finding them out 
through experimental inquiry. An Actor may have purposes for 
all his ends; and some system for self-instruction ; but as he never 
has satisfactorily told them, we must, as in the case of Nature, be 
contented, if he does not prevent our efforts to ascertain them. 
Without therefore positively asserting^ he has no means of in- 
structing himself, or of being instructed, beyond his common 
school of Imitation, we may, if unable to discover his intentions 
or rules, particularly on the subject of the voicej be allowed to 
state our view of the causes why, with an exception of some local 
rotine, and the business of the stage, he has none, above the in- 
stincts of gesture, countenance, and voice, common to him and 
the rest of his company. 






FAULTS OF READERS. 583 

One influential cause, affecting at large, the whole power and 
purpose of the Actor, though not chargeable on him alone, and 
which encourages this mediocrity, if it does not really produce 
itj is the too frequent absence, from a public audience, of those 
watchful Masters, Knowledge and Taste; masters who make 
greatness, wherever they rule, because they will have nothing 
else; and who in deciding on the faults and merits of an actor, 
teach him at the same time, to know himself. This however, is a 
general cause, arising from a neglect of instruction, common to 
the Actor and his audience. But leaving this point for the con- 
sideration of others, we will here briefly endeavor to show par- 
ticularly, not only why he has not a deep and thorough knowledge 
of very important requisites in this art, but why the circumstances 
which affect him, render it almost necessary that it should be so. 

In the First place, then, the vocation itself of an actor is apt 
to over-occupy, and thereby thwart any broader purpose of his 
mind, with memorial efforts upon wordsj and with a perpetual 
and varied succession of thought and passion, strongly excited 
for the moment, but too fugitive to become mentally familiar, or 
directively useful in the higher designs of expression; and there- 
fore not calculated to lead his attention, or inquiry, beyond the 
common topics of his art. 

Second. The whole mind of an Actor, with all its jealous 
hopes, is involved in the disturbing interest of his success. His 
success is measured by public applause; and public applause, 
though the very life and support of Egotism, rarely assists or 
enlarges the intelect, even on the subject of its ambition; but is 
apt to weaken its power, and prevent its advancement in every- 
thing else. 

Third. The actor, by that necessary law of a wholesome and a 
happy life, which directs us all to some physical or intelectual 
industry, goes to the stage, in nearly every instance, as a means 
of support; and too often without the preparatory education to 
give power to his purpose, and dignity to its effect; allured in 
the unreflective period of youth, by a dream of prospects and 
hope, rather than by a view of the influential realities and im- 
portant consequences of his choice; and beset by an early and 
restless ambition to be known, necessarily most urgent with him 



584 FAULTS OF READERS. 

■who, being unknown to others, is at the same time very probably 
unknown to himself; of a temperament, not always sedate and 
steady, nor extended and permanent enough to form the habit of 
looking into things as they are, and of fairly estimating the dif- 
ficulties of a task. c O I never think so nicely as that,' said an 
actress-? the spoilt-child of the populace of two Hemispheres;? 
to one, who remarked, that singing might be as articulate as 
speech. 

As it is much easier, gradually to change a vague perception 
into positive error, than to work-up exact and comprehensive ob- 
servation into systematic truthj it is almost conclusive, that minds 
born, or fashioned by circumstances, to the condition we have just 
described, would turn from the labor of cultivating the united 
powers of observation and reflection, to the amusement of indulg- 
ing in wavering opinions; and become a prey to the sophistry of 
Platonic fiction, or as it is now called, 'Ideality,' or 'Transcend- 
ental thought.' And such appears to be the state of mind, as 
far as they have explained it, of that class of actors, who sur- 
rounding .themselves with visions of more than enthusiastic pas- 
sion, perform their part by the mystic means of Identity. 

I can say nothing of the state of mind of the second Class, 
that electrifies its hearers, by 'volition;' by 'grand and sublime 
personations cut out of marble;' and though without a 'heart- 
throb of its own within its life-like sculpture,' yet stirs up its 
audience, to 'deafening themselves with their frantic applause.' 
Its power, in its own estimation, is most wonderful; but its ways, 
and means are beyond my comprehension: for to me, the account 
of these so-thought Frigidists, equally with that of the former 
Class, taken from their own dreams about themselves, contains 
not one assignable image in description, not one useful word of 
instruction, and nothing but words, in the purposes of histrionic 
criticism.* 

* It appears, from the preceding description, that as the Actor of the second 
class holds no extatic Identity with his Author, and returns no grateful 'feel- 
ing' to the 'frantic applause' of his audience, he must have under his 'sculpt- 
ured suit of marble,' some very peculiar extacy within himself. 

As I vaguely look upon this strange affair, and would write it down, in 
something like its own fantastic figures; the Actor's 'soul' sits all-secluded, a 
self-sufficient Monocrat, without a single minister of passion near the throne. 



FAULTS OF READERS. 585 

Supposing then, the difficulty or impossibility of our compre- 
hending the above description of the two great classes of Acting-; 
to be as strict a consequence of its obscurity, as if it was de- 
signed to be uninteligible : how are we to correct the actor-ism of 
Actors, in being either through ignorance, or self-will, incom- 
prehensible in their notions of themselves^ which the ' Genius of 
the Lamp' of innate and self-sufficient light, has strongly en- 
couraged, if indeed, he did not originally introduce it into the 
stroling Company of Thespis ? Simply by removing their delu- 
sions about personated 'Identity,' and Frigid personation; by 
inviting them down from 'the realms of cloud-land, where they 
dwell with the ideal creations of the poet;' and by clearly teach- 
ing them the physical and measurable signs of thought, and pas- 
sionj their own natural and inteligible state of mind if repre- 
sentable by countenance, gesture, and voice, can be distinctly 
conveyed to others. 

Since then the Observative Philosophy^ the Real Author- 
power of this Work, under my humble namej has for the benefit 
of the Actor, furnished the materials for a better condition of 
his Art, let the Actor listen for a moment, to the Observative 
Philosophy. 

All that has been gropingly sought through the 'spirituality' 
of Plato, and the Actor-ism of the Stage, may be here set down 
in the clear Baconian language of the Senses. An actor, in his 
personations, is not a 'disembodied being of cloud-land' 'kindled 
by Promethean fire' and 'taking the audience by storm;' with 
'an upward gaze,' and in contempt of sensuous things, 'treading 
external circumstances beneath his feet.' He is like the rest of 
usj though he may not admit this 'identity/ an earthly animal, 
of flesh and blood; with the means of moving, and of plainly or 
passionately thinking, and speakingj which he is visibly and 
audibly to apply with inteligence and taste. The thoughts to 
be declared, are set down in his Part, and are communicable, by 
grammatical and appropriate speech. The passions to be ex- 
pressed, are described or implied in the words of his author. 
These thoughts and passions, at least all that can, and ought to 
be represented, are common to mankind, and are therefore readily 
excited in an audience, by their well-known physical signs. 
38 



586 FAULTS OF READERS. 

The actor being thus kept down to the level of humanity, on 
the points of thought and passion ; the Baconian method of work- 
ing-out the practice through the principle, procedes to the manner 
of expressing them. This is shown in the person, the counte- 
nance, and the voice. 

Spiritualism has never gone so far, as to assume the mystical 
direction of personal Gesture. The exalted, the downcast, the 
averted, the assenting, and dissenting head; the hasty, the digni- 
fied, and the starting step; the fixed, and the 'supplosive' foot; 
with the 'chironoiny' of the arm, in its unnumbered motions and 
meanings, are all, in their consonance of character and expres- 
sion with the countenance and voice, no more than obvious mus- 
cular movements, prompted by nature, confirmed in their uses by 
habit, and exercised with propriety and taste. 

In the countenance, the Baconian eye of observation sees no- 
thing in character and expression, but physical form, outline, and 
movement, together with the smooth and the wrinkled, the white 
and the red; all variously combined, and yet so plainly connected 
with their respective thought and passion, that your dog, happily 
freed from Platonic notions, in a moment perceves them in your 
face. But here the actor begins to raise his 'Perturbing Spirit;' 
and not contented with nature's own physical sufficiency for his 
thoughtive and passionative signs, and which, if left to itself, 
would accomplish all his face is fit for; only forces it to the 
distortion of 'electrifying looks,' by 'throwing his soul' into his 
eyes, and nose, and mouth, and brow; and perhaps, in violence 
to the just expression of well-closed lips, even into the grinning 
of his very teeth. 

And what does the Baconian observer find in the Actor's 
voice? He hears that some of his words are of longer quantity 
than others; some more forcibly pronounced; some are harsh, 
others smooth; some acute, others grave; hears, not in his 
soul's ear, but physically hears, the Modes of vocality, force, 
time, abruptness and pitch, with their various forms, degrees, 
and practical distinctions, detailed throughout this Workj by a 
pupil of only a lower Form, in the Baconian school, who is yet 
happy in his present, and looks with hopeful patience to his 
future tasks. But with all these phenomena within hearing, and 



FAULTS OF READERS. 587 

only unrecognized because unnamed, the Platonic Thinker, seek- 
ing something above vulgar observation, has by notional ' move- 
ments of the spirit' and figments of 'occult causes,' not only 
prevented his own spontaneous perception of the vocal phe- 
nomena, but worse still, has so far contributed to obtund, as 
fictional habits generally doj both the senses and the intelect, as 
not to let him listen, much less attempt to comprehend, when 
told by others, that the Expression of Speech is only one part of 
measurable and describable physical nature. 

Upon all that has been said, perhaps some of those who would 
degrade the Fine-art of Acting, to a level with the visionary 
Sychology of our poetic young ladies, may ask if we have not 
given a too prosaic, or 'matter of fact,' account of the material 
and formal causes of the Art? What, says the ' cloud- capt' 
transcendentalist, is to become of the actor's grandeur, pathos, 
and grace, if they are to be deduced from physical, and not 
from 'spiritual' causes? We answer, that with those states of 
mind, the proper use of the physical means for vocal and per- 
sonal expression, will, under the observative system, display 
those states with more uniformity, and consequently with more 
force: for the expression not depending on the individual caprice 
of visionary personation, will have a more invariable character, 
and therefore be more clearly and generally perceved. To me 
however, the cause is not apparent, why the mystical 'soul' under 
the fiction of Identity, should be brought into Stage-Personation, 
more than into any other art. Why should not the Sculptor, 
Painter and Architect, when they studiously, and choicely com- 
plete their designs, and then practically execute them with pro- 
priety and tastej claim to have this mysterious light of esthetic- 
inspiration? We once heard of a Frenchman, who, having made 
a certain Miniature Shoe* ascribed his success soley to the influ- 
ence of 'a moment of enthusiasm.' And it has long been a by- 
word of the concentrative and transmuting influence of a Sheffield 
work-shop, that a button-maker, as a 'glaring instance' of Iden- 
tity, does in time become a very Button. Nor are such jocose 
notions less absurd, when applied to an Actor or when assumed 
by himself. 

The Fine arts are figuratively represented as sisters; and they 



588 FAULTS OF READERS. 

are a closely related family, so far as the elegant work of their 
hands is directed by a unity of the general principles of beauty 
in the esthetic mind. When these principles have perceptibly 
and practically taken-on their separate sister-forms^ any attempt, 
marriage-like, to join two of them by a metaphysical rite, into 
one, would defeat the design of varied departments in taste; and 
be repugnant to the thought of a confederate-independence among 
themselves. From a few elements of matter and motion, or per- 
haps from single matter and its motion, Nature produces her 
countless differences of function and form. The same radical 
and governing principles of fitness and beauty in the arts, that 
create the delightful imagery of the poet, direct the just vocal 
expression of the actor. But when the principle embodies itself 
into perception, the unity of the principle is divided, and passes, 
if I may so speak, into the varied differences of its exemplified 
forms. The principle with the poet, is a train of directive per- 
ceptions, conizable to others only by its effect in his written im- 
agery and sign. The principle w T ith the actor, is the train of 
directive perception conizable to others only by the effect in the 
proper audible-sounds of his voice; and strange as it may seem, 
until further explained, we have a unity in the mental root and 
stock of those principles, but cannot have a direct resemblance 
between the several branches of the arts, w T hich those principles 
produce. Somebody once made a doubtful metaphor, in calling 
Dancing, the 'poetry of motion.' It wants just as much, the 
clear picturing of a true and consistent tropej and it is altogether 
out of place, in serious discourse, to speak of the Poetry of the 
Stage. It has had too, the effect on unthinking Actors, and on 
Critics who should think, to turn their attention from the assign- 
able merits of the art, to its vague and wandering mysticism; 
and to encourage the weak-minded, to gossip with others, as well 
as to enter into their own reveries, about the ' magical and dreamy 
influence of passion.' If poetry^ flimsy, spirit-woven, merely self- 
inteligible poetry I meanj belongs to the Action of the Stage, then 
with the reciprocity of a metaphor, we might sayj the Action of 
the stage belongs to poetical soaring, even in its transcendental 
flights; which is absurd. 

Let me ask one question of the dramatic Mystagogue, both as 



FAULTS OF READERS. 589 

critic and actor; for if not of one notional school, they would 
soon go their way from each other; whence does the poet; yes, 
emphatically for this case, the Poet; who being a participant- 
' spirit' in stage Identity, should in his own art be a bright ex- 
ample-; whence does he draw this grandeur, pathos, and grace, 
which the Actor in his cloud of idealism, has only at second hand, 
to express? Ask the Homers, the Virgils, the Shakspeare, the 
Milton, the Thomsons, the Popes, and the Cowpers, in their vari- 
ous powers; and from their unraystified delineation of nature and 
of life, their analogies, all drawn at last, from that physical 
nature alone, not poetically sung, but clearly spoken to the ear 
in vivid representation of the objects of every other senses and 
learn how they have become to us, through the recognized exact- 
ness of their bright and exalted pictures, the Baconian philoso- 
phers of fiction, and the great 'Secretaries' of nature and art; 
recording with iluminated faithfulness, the history of existing, 
and of possible, but not of pretending truths. They copied, each 
in his own hand, what was, and what had been: and set down 
even what might be, with the clearness of a waking and a written 
thought. Let then the infatuated aspirant of Stage-Personation, 
who thinks we have been too prosaic, about his ' Genius of Iden- 
tity,' learn through his dramatic Masters j from whose language 
he must draw the audible material of his art, or it would only be 
the pantomimic 'spirit' of his vocal expressionj how they per- 
formed their high poetic part of grandeur, pathos, and grace, 
through all the breadth and depth of passion: without any real 
'nightly visits of the muse;' with- no 'extacies' of the Delphian 
Tripod ; no ' stirring the waters of the soul ' to a state of poetic- 
Identity; but on a humble seat perhaps, and without enchant- 
ment, drawing their 'goodly thoughts' in the truth and strength 
of simplicity, from life and books, and things unwritten; with the" 
privilege of descriptively exalting the physical realities of nature 
to perfectional degrees of the beautiful, and the sublime. 



590 CONCLUSION. 



CONCLUSION. 



Here I finish the history of the speaking voice: having therein 
designed to record no anecdotal wonders; no magnifying tradi- 
tions of how far Whitfield could be heard; no prodigies of earliesx 
infant speech ; no ultra case of a stammerer, who could not be 
even heard at all ; no echo past counting ; nor ventriloquism past 
belief. On a subject worthy in itself of serious inquiry, I was 
reminded to pay more respect to the Reader who might value this 
Work, than contrivingly to entice him on to principles, by a dis- 
tracting detail of 'startling' facts; having endeavored to set be- 
fore him an instructive story told by Nature ; whose wisdom being 
the broadest principle and power of all generality, is,'if it admits 
the term, a single Wonder, Uncompared. 

It has been my design throughout this Work to subject the 
voice to a studious examination; and by the simple but sufficient 
direction of the Ear, to unfold its supposed mysteries with philo- 
sophic precision. How far this has been accomplished, the intel- 
igent Reader must determine, with that allowance for minor 
errors, which the historian of Nature has perhaps, in an arduous 
task like this, a right to claim, and which the liberal and reflec- 
tive critic, who may have been told of the inscrutable intonations 
of speech, will not refuse. 

Those to whom the subject of Elocution, in its higher meaning, 
is new, will receve this history without prejudice; and though 
they may not have occasion for, its practical rules, will still admire 
the beautiful economy of nature, in the ordination of speech. 
Those who have spent a life of labor, 1 by the dim and scattered 
light as yet reflected from the art, and who are too proud or care- 
less to take-on a new mind, with the advancement of knowledge^ will 
at least learn from this essay, the deficiencies of the old scheme 
of instruction, even though they may not admit the deficiencies 
are here supplied. If the development now offered, were only 
an addition to the artj persons of the latter class might discover 
traces of their former opinions, and thereby have some preface 
to admitting it. But finding here, the history of what may seem 
to be a new and therefore a revolting creation in science, they 



CONCLUSION. 591 

may reject it altogether, because they cannot recognize the defi- 
nitions, divisions, rules, a-nd ilustrations of their familiar school- 
books on elocution. 

However Philosophy and Taste may admire the Wisdom and 
Beauty in the Natural system of the voice, which we have en- 
deavored to describej it is to be regarded as a curiosity only, if it 
does not lead to some Practical application. I have therefore 
attempted, on the unalterable foundation of our physiological 
history, to establish a method of directive precepts, and of ele- 
mentary instruction. 

If we infer from prevalent opinions, we must beleve, the dis- 
tinct methods of a good elocution are endless ; for every one with 
self-satisfaction thinks he reads wellj yet all read differently. 
There is however, under a varied application of just principles, 
but one method of reading-well; and we are now enabled, from a 
knowledge and nomenclature of the constituents of the voice, to 
furnish from Nature herself, and not from the endless fashions of 
the ignorant tongue, the effective means of that only-method. 
Without some system of generalized facts and principles in Elocu- 
tion, drawn from the pervading unity of Nature, there can be 
none of that fellowship which so essentially contributes to the 
advancement of an art. Yet even with an instructive ordination of 
certain vocal signs to certain states of mindj conventional differ- 
ences, unrectified by rule, tend to confound that ordination and 
weaken its authority. If some uniform system of the voice be 
instituted, similarity of knowledge will insure greater accuracy in 
the use of its signs; for intonations, like words, will have more 
precision and force, when not varied from their fixed and appro- 
priate meaning. 

In colecting and framing the precepts of Elocution, I have 
taken into view the strength, the propriety, and the beauty of 
expression. The system represents an inteligible, and dignified 
method of the voice, under that form of severe but efficacious 
simplicity, which is not at first alluring to him who is unac- 
customed to regard the exalted purpose, and effect of an endur- 
ing taste. With the art of reading thus established, its excelence 
must grow into sure and irreversible favor, whenever it receves 
that studious attention, which raises the pursuits of the wise 



592 CONCLUSION. 

above those of the vulgar. I might, from another art, relate the 
story of the great Painter, who with his mind filled with anticipa- 
tive reflections on the merits of Raflaelle, was disappointed at his 
first sight of the walls of the Vatican, and disconsolate after his 
last. 

The florid style of elocution, formed by wider intervals than 
are proper to the diatonic melody, is the result of a sway of ex- 
aggerative passion like that which prevails with the child and the 
savage. The thoughtless excitability of noise-loving ignorance, 
which delights in the florid intervals of speech, demands a per- 
petual change to faults of a like vivid character; and capricious 
alteration takes the place of enduring improvement. The system 
of plain diatonic melody, with the occasional contrast of expres- 
sive intervals, for which, as the Advocate of Nature, I would 
plead, has in the charm of its simplicity, an impressive influence 
on the educated mind, which the studious use of observation and 
reflection in an art, must always insure. 

If this oifered system of Elocution should, on the grounds of 
propriety or taste, be objectionable, let another be formed by 
him who is better qualified for the task. Only, let a consistent, 
though even a conventional, system be formed. And as in the 
other esthetic arts, we can turn to an 'Apollo,' a 'Parthenon,' 
and a 'Transfiguration'; to the Rules of the Oratoria; the Land- 
scape of Whately, and of Price; the 'Institutes' of Quinctilian, 
and the Precepts of Horace,' and of Pope; let Elocution be able 
hereafter, not only to bring forward the name of a Roscius, a 
Garrick, a Siddons, a Talma, and a Boothj let it at the same time 
lay-up in the Cabinet of the arts, a history of the available ways 
and means of their vocal superiority ; thereby investing the art of 
speaking-well, through its methodic description, with that cor- 
porate capacity, by the preservative succession of which the 
practical influence of its highest masters shall never die. 

A kindly fellowship among the votaries of the arts, and the 
bad temper of disagreement, turn so entirely on a harmony in 
opinion, that whoever has examined this subject would, for social 
sympathy if not for truth and taste, prefer a factitious system, if 
well-ordered and consistent with itself, as a substitute for the 
varying and contradictory rules, constantly proposed by ever- 



CONCLUSION. 593 

changing authority, in individual cases, of what may be called 
common or unenlightened speech. 

The Philologist, in the study and eolation of languages, esti- 
mates those which have receved their classified and concordant 
method from the arbitrary institutions of grammar and prosody, 
above those which arise with less connection or analogy, from the 
wants and passions of a barbarous people. 

Where shall we find the natural prototype of that elegant and 
precise science of Heraldry, which makes the enthusiast, over his 
armorial ensigns, delight in the purely invented, system of the 
Escutcheon and its Charges, and read their artificial but methodic 
disposition, by the brief and luminous rules of Blazonry? 

What book of Botany can designate the fluted stem and 
sheathing leaf of the free-handed floral volutej the symmetric 
lotus^ the scrolled acanthus^ the varied cupj the indented leafing, 
with its delicate tracery-; which altogether constitute the beautiful 
and endless combination of ornament, in the contrasted and 
harmonious grouping of Greek and Roman Ideal or Esthetic 
Foliage ? 

These three subjects are all the systematic yet conventional 
creations of art; and it would seem, that objects of intelectual 
taste, as well as of sensuous perception, are sometimes more 
satisfactory when enjoyed, in the latter, through the impressive 
habit of acquired appetite; and in the former through artificial 
and therefore to the dogmatic mind, less changeable arrange- 
ments and rules: and we know that what is called acquired ap- 
petite, is always governed by the influence of some habitual 
principles, however arbitrary these principles may be. 

Without a system founded either on Nature, or on general 
Convention, I am at a loss to know by what authority criticism 
in Elocution is to be directed. Its rules have too frequently 
been drawn from the very instances which are the questionable 
subject of investigation. Garrick is to be tried; and by the 
Common Law, for there is no Statute here, the former case of 
Garrick is the rule of critical justice. Happy for an art, when 
such authority can be cited ! But what is to be said when pre- 
sumption pushes itself into the front ranks of elocution, and 
thoughtless friends undertake to support it? The fraud must go 



594 CONCLUSION. 

on, till presumption quarrels, as often happens, with its own 
friends or with itself, and finally dissolves the spell of its fic- 
titious character and merits. 

The preceding history develops many principles of instruc- 
tion, and criticism, and makes some effort towards their applica- 
tion. Pronunciation, pause, and stressful emphasis are the only 
points of elocution which have been reduced to the precision of 
particulars: and on these only have critics been able to show 
anything like definite censure or applause. By directing their 
inquiry to the details of Intonation, they will learn how far em- 
phasis depends upon it: and when a perception of its universal 
influence in speech is awakened by exact description, and nomen- 
clature, they will then first preceve how the comprehensive de- 
signs of emphasis, in the fulest purpose of thought and passion, 
may be marred by defects in the delicate schemes of melody, and 
intonated expression. 

Read over a review of dramatic performance. It may have 
words enough for its thoughts^ and very good grammar. You 
cannot however, avoid observing a strong disposition on the part 
of the writer, to say something, when he has nothing to say: 
hence, with some transcendental notion, and some uninteligible 
analogy to explain it; together with a parrot-vocabulary of un- 
meaning terms, generally misapplied, and always mawkish to an 
instructed and delicate taste, such as 'chasteness,' 'by-play,' 
' undertone,' 'freshness,' 'harmony,' 'effect,' and 'keepings the 
writer soon makes his way to surer ground, in noting the number 
and dress of the audience; the comfort of the seats in the or- 
chestra, with thanks to the manager, for recent alterations in the 
rules of the housej the habit of slamming doors, and the noise of 
iron-shod boots: the whole accompanied with copious extracts 
from some well-known dramatic scenes, and perhaps a reprint of 
one of Cumberland's criticisms. But how can I withhold an ex- 
ample of the 'fine phrensy' of one of those 'brilliant hits' of 
histrionic criticism? 'To hear **** 5 ' said and seriously too, not 
an ilustrious, but a madly ilustrating and modern English Poetj 
'to hear **** act, is like reading Shakspeare by a flash of 
lightning.' A meteoric lesson on Elocution, gesture, and the 
countenance, worthy of the transcendental teacher; and quite 



CONCLUSION. 595 

satisfactory to those who thought themselves thus brightly in- 
structed.* 

* To exemplify the uninteligible generalities of the greater part of histrionic 
criticism, under the indefinite verbiage of the old Elocutional select the follow- 
ing article from a Charleston newspaper of the seventh of February, eighteen 
hundred and thirty-eight. It is a 'cloud-land' analysis of the manner of a 
foreign Stroling- Actor, Starring at that time, through the United States^ whose 
real excelence on many points could not however, under the old system, guard 
him against that transcendental fog of rapsody, which destroys every percep- 
tion not only of an identity with his enacted character, but even of any likeness 
in the description to the character of the Actor himself. After stating that 
the Theater was crowded, which we do comprehend, he goes on with what we 
do not: 

'His reputation rests upon a charm that gathers strength with time — his ex- 
celence is not particular, not resting upon starts, marvelous eccentricities, 
miraculous shreds, that like diamonds in rubbish astonish us by mere contrast 
with neighboring dulness — his excelence is general, it interests and absorbs 
you, not by the finish of a movement, the richness of a smfle, the complication 
of a sneer or the preternatural power of a tone, but sweeps you on in the broad, 
bright stream of the profoundly estimated and distinctly developed character. 
You live in his personation — you feel your own blood sensibly coursing in the 
veins of his Hamlet, your own soul rocking with his indecisive will, your own 
brain gathering in the dim and awful musings that swell in his. It so dawns 
upon you, ever casting a light before its approach, that you receve it as the 
realization of your own ideal, rather than start at it as an unhoped for wonder. 
You are not reminded that you had never thought of such, or such a conception 
before, and therefore you are never compelled to remember that the scene is 
without, foreign to you, on the stage and not in your own soul. You go with 
the personation, in it, a part of it, and not like parasites, bowing in mock 
astonishment at the heels of the show. This may be a little mystical, (0! clouds 
and darkness, not a little,) but it is as near as we can arrive to a correct ac- 
count of the impression which Mr. has made upon our own minds. He 

is evidently a scholar, a man of thought, who has worked out his ideal with all 
the careful labor and intense dreaming that it costs the sculptor to perfect his. 
The consequence of this is, that he is always the character, always Hamlet — for 
instance, acting, feeling, imagining, suffering, like — no, not like, for that de- 
notes a comparison of two things where there is not only resemblance but dif- 
ference—it is rather Hamlet himself, Shakspeare's Hamlet, bursting the cere- 
ments of his blackletter sleep and walking out from the volume upon the stage. 
There is a freshness, a reality in it that would give it all the charm of novelty 
on repetition. It could no more grow tame than the eternal truth of the poet : s 
own creation.' 

Again, at the close we have something that we do comprehend. 

'The play was witnessed with earnest interest. We have not time to make a 

record of cheering, &c, but in the course of the evening Mr. was called 

out, and amidst loud and long applause, tendered his acknowledgments to the 
House.' 



596 CONCLUSION. 

The preceding Essay furnishes principles and definite terms, by 
which the specific merits and defects of an actor, or a speaker 
may be distinctly represented; by which the indescribable mys- 
teries of speech, as they are called, may be inteligibty told to 
other ages than those that hear them; by which arrogance and 
imposture in this art, may be wrested from their hold on the bet- 
ter part of mankind, and their corrupting influence left undis- 
turbed over that great majority, always ready to support the 
small, and too often the greater frauds of lifej and which, in its 
way, does receve a sort of pleasure from the changing pictures of 
its credulity. 

The same close and comprehensive observation which makes 
an interpreter of nature, makes a Prophet in the arts. He can 
tell us, that in the future history of elocution, as it now is with 
song, the masters of its Practice must always be masters of the 
Science; that they will, with the confident aim of principles, ad- 
dress themselves to the elect of inteligence and taste, by whom 
their merits will be rated and their authority fixed. And if in 
acquiring fame or fortune by their voice, they should receve 
assistance from this essay, I shall be contented to think it may 
be even a humble contribution to the means, by which the works 
of Esthetic Art have in all ages, delighted the inteligent and 
educated portion of mankind. 

Finally, I would recommend this analysis, and the practical 
inference which may be drawn from it, to those who declare that 
elocution cannot be taught; that the just and ele,gant adaptation 
of the voice, to thought and passion, cannot be an act of self-per- 
ception, and must therefore be the work of earless, eyeless, and 
thoughtless ' Genius ' alone. Such persons look upon this sup- 
posed peculiar-power of the mind, as a kind of sleight ; the ways 
and means of which are unknown and immeasurable. But 'genius ' 
as it appears from its productions, is only an unusual aptitude for 
that broad, reflective, combining, and persevering observation 
which perceves and readily accomplishes more than is done with- 
out it; and is therefore in its purposes and uses, not altogether 
removed beyond a submission to knowledge and rulej though in 
its course of instruction, 'genius' is oftenest the pupil of itself. 

Let those who are deluded by this vulgar notion of 'genius,' 



CONCLUSION. 597 

turn themselves from mystics, who wrap-up only to misrepresent 
the simple agency of the mind, and who cannot define its high 
productive power, which through their own veil they do not com- 
prehend; let them ask the great Sachems of Science, the encom- 
passing, and far-seeing Chiefs of Thought, and learn from the 
real possessors of it, how much of its manner may be described. 
They will tell us that 'genius,' if we must use this loose and oft- 
perverted term, is in its high meaning always earnest, sometimes 
enthusiastic, but never fanatical; always characterized by steady 
perseverance; by the love of an object in its means as well as its 
end; by that unshaken self-confidence in its unobtrusive powers, 
which converts the evil of discouragement into the benefit of 
success ; which cares not to be alone, and is too much engrossed 
with its own truths, to be disturbed by the opinions of others: 
with a disentangling purpose to see things as they might be; and 
the energetic means to execute them as they ought to be; soar- 
ing above that musty policy which, in its 'wary tact' of the ex- 
pedient, would with a world serving quietude preserve them 
always as they are: having the power to accomplish great and 
useful works, only because it wastes no time on small and selfish 
ones; and passing a life of warfare in detecting the impostures 
and follies of its own age, that the unenvious verdict of the next, 
like the celebrated response by the Oracle of Delphi, may pro- 
nounce it the chief in wisdom and in virtue. 



BRIEF ANALYSIS 



OF 



SONG AND RECITATIVE 



When the phenomena of Speech, Song, and Recitative, are 
regarded independently of verbal distinctions, they display a 
nearer resemblance than is discoverable by a general view of 
their effects and names. It is the Disclosing duty of Philosophy 
to show us the real existences of things; to remove many of those 
lines of subdivision which the poor conveniences of classification 
have adopted, and to exhibit, as far as available with finite re- 
sources, that clear and comprehensive picture of Kature, sur- 
veyed at once and always, by the Discernment of her own self- 
present, and self-percipient eye. 

To the common ear, speech and song are totally different. Let 
us examine their relationships by a comparison of their several 
constituents. 

In taking up this subject, I have no new vocal function to 
describe. Song and Recitative are respectively only certain 
combinations of the five modes of sound, and their forms, de- 
grees, and varieties, including the protracted radical, and vanish^ 
enumerated in the preceding history of speech. It is my design 
to point out briefly, the manner of these combinations; thus to 
complete the survey of vocal science; and if the expressive use 
of the voice does at all admit the Pretensions of Recitativej to 
show the relationsh : p between its three leading divisions. 

(599) 



GOO A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 



OF SONG. 

TnE art of Vocal Music has long been studiously cultivated; 
and although it has never yet receved a full elementary analysis, 
either of its structure or its effects, its investigators have accu- 
mulated a mass of observation, and framed a bod}^ of rules for 
governing the great and brilliant results of its practical execution. 

It is at this time, beyond both my design and ability to offer a 
detailed consideration of the topic before us. The opportunities 
for inquiry on the subject of Song, as well as on that of all the 
Fine Arts, are too limited in this country, to afford useful com- 
panionship in knowledgej the broader rules of taste^ and eminent 
examples of inteligence joined with executive skillj to furnish a 
record of facts and principles, in that order and with that clear- 
ness which always characterize a direct transcript from nature. 
It becomes the American, in considering this subject, to offer 
only his own observation; leaving a further description of the 
singing-voice, to the ample means of European experience, educa- 
tion, and exact inquiry. I propose to give a general account of 
the functions of song; leaving it to those whom it may profes- 
sionally concern, to make a practical application of the facts and 
principles here developed, or to regard them only as a pastime of 
knowledge, in natural history. 

As song consists in certain combinations of the five modes of 
the voice employed in speech, the proposed analysis will be given 
under the same general heads: and firsts 

Of the Pitch or Intonation of Song, Song has every direction 
and extent of intonation ascribed to speech; together with two 
forms, which do not belong to the latter. 

In the second section of the analysis of speech, I described 
those peculiar modifications of the concrete^ the Protracted Radi- 
cal, and Vanish. In their most simple form they consist respec- 
tively of a faint and rapid concrete through the interval of a 
tone, joined to a level line of pitch. Let us call the former of 
these constituent movements, the Quick-concrete; and the latter 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OP SONG. 601 

the Note. Of the quick-concrete and prolonged note, there are 
two conditions. 

In the First* the quick-concrete rises and terminates in the 
note at the summit of the interval; constituting the Protracted 
Vanish. The ascent by this continuation of quick-concrete and 
note, through the seven places of the musical scale is ilustrated 
by the following notation of time and pitch. 



w^ 



i^=f? 



pS 



In the Second condition, the prolonged Note begins on the 
radical line. At its termination, the quick-concrete rises to the 
summit of the interval; constituting the Protracted Radical. In 
ascending the scale, by this combination of note and concrete, 
the progression is made according to the following notation. 



sr^- 



r o4 



od g 



^pss^i: 



By these two conditions, we learn that the note always has the 
quick-concrete, before or after it. 

Song variously employs both these movements; the protracted 
radical less frequently perhaps than the protracted vanish: the 
voice in its instinctive intonation, appearing to fall more readily 
into the latter. Not having however sufficiently examined this 
point, I leave it for future inquirers. Regarding the vocal effect 
or expression in these two forms of the protracted note, there 
seems to be no difference between them; and should no better 
cause be found for the singer's choice in taking one or the other, 
it might perhaps, in some cases, be decided by the character of 
the elements on which it is executed. The radicals of the dip- 
thongs, a-we, a-h, and ou-t, having more volume than their re- 
spective vanishes g-rr and oo-ze, would be chosen for the protracted 
39 



602 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

note. When a subtonic begins, and a tonic ends a sylable, the 
protracted vanish would be taken. When a subtonic both begins 
and ends a sylable, there may be a motive for a choice between 
them. Hence a singer, with reference to the more agreeable 
sound, and more impressive effect of a long-drawn note, would 
use the protracted radical, or protracted vanish, as the construc- 
tion of the sylable might allow. 

The time of the concrete-rise in the foregoing scales, is repre- 
sented by a semiquaver, and that of the note, by a semibreve, 
two comparative terms in music, expressing the proportion of one 
to sixteen; yet the proportion may vary. 

In the great System of Song, there is a Simple, and a more 
Complex structurej formed respectively, by the discrete, and by 
the concrete movements of the voice. 

The successions of pitch in song, represented by the preceding 
scales, being made with a discrete skip to proximate degrees, 
without a continuous slide from one note into another^ a vocal 
melody founded on these scales, forms the Plainest kind of song, 
resembling the discrete music of a flute. 

In this kind of melody, the length of the note, when compared 
with the concrete, is different, according to the time of the musi- 
cal composition. Its longest quantity may excede the proportion 
represented in the above scales. In its shortest, the note is 
dropped; and the double form, of note and quick-concrete, there- 
by changed to a single equable concrete. This occurs in quick- 
timed songsj which therefore strongly resemble speech; and 
were it not for an occasional prolonged note with wide skips of 
radical pitch, and a barred rythmus, they would pass for it. 
Much skill is therefore not required to sing a comic song, the 
greater part of its intonation being in the equable concrete. 

The foregoing diagrams of the tone, represent the most simple 
form of the united quick-concrete and protracted-note of song. 
But other scales of wider concretes may be constructed. 

The following diagram represents the protracted vanishj with a 
concrete, varying from a second to an eighth; and a wider range 
of the concrete might be exhibited, for song occasionally uses it. 
Having given above, a full scale of the concrete of a second with 
its protracted vanish, it is unnecessary to show a particular one, 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 



603 



for each of the other intervals. The Reader can from the follow- 
ing summary, do this on paper for himself, by drawing a full 
scale, with the concrete of a thirds another full scale, with the 
concrete of a fourth; and to the octave. And here, as the in- 
terval of the concrete widens, the disproportion, both in extent 
and time, between the note and concrete diminishes, and the 
latter loses its relative distinction of Quick. 




Taking this diagram, with the page inverted, it will exhibit 
the notation of a Protracted Radical with an issuing concrete of 
the several intervals of the scale; observing, that here we begin 
with the octave* a difference of no account in the explanation. 
Of this form, the Reader can also draw the several full scales, 
with a differing concrete; giving thereby a representation of all 
the elementary forms of the protracted radical and protracted 
vanish, with their rising concretes of every extent, used in song. 

Again, song employs the downward concrete in connection 
with the Protracted notes ; and of these movements there are two 
conditions. The First descends by the concrete, and terminates 
in the protracted note. The Second, on the contrary, begins 
with the protracted note, and then descends by the concrete, as 
in the following ilustration* where only the third, fifth, and 
octave are represented; but the Reader can make for himself a 
full scale for each of the other intervals, under both conditions. 



First Condition. 



Second Condition. 



£ 



\ _XI ^j, 



604 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

There is another form of the junction of note and concrete, 
used in song, consisting of the above two conditions united. The 
first condition may have a note at the beginning of its concrete, 
and the second a note at its end ; the concrete in each case being 
between two notes. Of this the Reader can for himself, draw a 
full scale for each different concrete, with its protracted note. 

Song then has two conditions of the rising and two of the 
falling movement; severally formed by a union of the concrete 
of every interval, respectively with the beginning or the end of 
the protracted note: and a third, in which the protracted note is 
at both the beginning, and the end of the concrete. 

What was remarked concerning the length of the note, in the 
scale of the concrete second, may be said of the other scales, with 
their different intervals^ that the proportion between the note 
and the concrete may vary till the former disappears altogether, 
and the movement becomes like the equable concrete of the 
several rising and falling intervals of speech: and further, that 
as the concrete is widened, there may be an equality between the 
two. All which cases occur in the execution of the Elaborate or 
Florid Song. 

Let us suppose the forms of the concrete, without the ap- 
pendage of the note, to be united into one continuous line of 
contrary flexure. This produces, with or without an abrupt 
radical, the wave of song; and inasmuch as we have concretes 
of every interval and in every direction, so they may be com- 
bined into every form of the wave. But besides this simple form, 
which is that of speech, the wave may either begin with a pro- 
tracted note, or end with one; or both begin and end with one. 
And these conditions, like the others, are heard only for dif- 
ficulty's sake, in the twists and turns of the Florid Song. 

Song likewise employs the Tremulous movement on the pro 
tracted note, the concrete, and the wave. 

These are the several constituents of intonation in song; and 
from the simple and limited, or complex and extended use of 
their two elements, the protracted note and the concrete^ song 
may be regarded under two divisions. First, as 

Discrete-Song; or the progression of a melody, formed soley 
of the protracted radical, or of the protracted vanish, with the 









A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 605 

concrete of a second or tone, or of its wave, and a discrete change 
of radical pitch through any interval. And second, as 

Concrete-Song; consisting of a continuous movement through 
the wider intervals, both in an upward and downward direction; 
mingled with protracted notesj with a wider radical pitch-* with 
the various forms of the wavej and with every variety and degree 
of stress. In Discrete song, the formality of the voice resembles 
that of an instrument with fixed notes: and in the Concrete^ that 
endless interchange among all the forms and varieties of vocality, 
force, time, and pitch, resembles the unmeaning permutations, in 
the voice of the mocking-bird. 

I here in passing, allude to the subject of articulation in song^ 
as it is the management of pitch which secures the distinctness of 
this function. 

It was shown, that one of the requisites for distinct pronuncia- 
tion in speech, is a just apportionment of the concrete, to the 
literal elements. The audibility of the words in song depends in 
part upon the same principle; for though the peculiar intonation 
of the protracted note, destroys the general character of speech, 
it does not alter the rule of sylabication. The correct articula- 
tion of song however, requires a further attention to the accent- 
uation of words, and to their sylabic quantity. The management 
of these matters lies with the composer and the poet. I have 
only to remark, that when the accent and quantity of sylables 
are adjusted to the accent and time of musical composition, with 
a full knowledge of the voice, and the required diligence 3 a quali- 
fied person may learn to sing, in the plain melody, or discrete 
song, with as distinct an articulation as he speaks. I say in plain 
melody; for the wonderful Lofty vocal-Tumbling of the florid 
and ambitious song, has often as little to do with sylables and 
words, as it has with Expression; or with anything else than 
Difficulty, profitable Engagements, and Applause. Writers on 
vocal science with the united resources of the old elocution, have 
endeavored to instruct us on this subject; yet the same preceptive 
page which enjoins its importance, directs that the vowels should 
principally compose the strain of utterance. The vowel or tonic 
sounds have the purest and most agreeable vocality for songj and 
unfortunately allow fashionable singers to vocalize themselves 



606 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

out of their articulation, and astonish an audience out of a na- 
tural ear and its educated taste; but it is also certain, that a 
sylable in plain melody, is distinctly recognized, by its proper 
accent, and by the proper apportionment of quantity among its 
elements. Here the purposes in these writers seem to be at vari- 
ance. It is the vocalist's duty to reconcile them, by making dis- 
tinct articulation agreeable. 

The preceding, is a general account of the structure of pitch in 
song. The manner of using it, in combination with other con- 
stituents, will be described hereafter.* 

* Upon a review of our history of the intonation of speech and song, it 
seemed to mej the effect of the discrete scale of the latter with its issuing 
vanish, might be produced on some musical instruments. 

I had designed, as an experiment, to connect a square and single organ-pipe 
with its finger-key, for a single note, by means of compound levers, so that the 
same touch which raises the wind-valve should, at a succeding moment, raise a 
hinged shutter on one side of the pipe, at its open end; the object of this shutter 
being to cover an oblong aperture, or ventage, reaching from the very end of 
the pipe, so far towards its sounding-lip, as to raise the pitch a tone or second 
when the shutter should be opened. 

This shutter having its center of motion towards the sounding-lip, was to 
overlap the edges of the oblong ventage: the under surface of this shutter, to 
have a block attached to it, for entering and closing the ventage, the overlap of 
the shutter forming a rebate or covering-edge to the sides of the aperture. This 
block to be of some thickness and beveled with its sharp angle towards the end of 
the pipe ; that when the shutter, together with the beveled block closing the vent- 
age, should be raised, the ventage would be gradually opened, and the intona- 
tion be thus made to rise gradually, with a concrete movement. With the 
shutter entirely opened, the long note then produced immediately following the 
concrete, might give the instrumental execution of the protracted vanish. 

In the transitions of melody with such a contrivance, it would be necessary 
that the valve in the wind-chest should be made to close before the shutter, 
otherwise the gradual descent of the shutter, would make a falling concrete, on 
every note. 

I here state the principle on which an experiment may be tried by those who 
have ability, time, and convenience for such things. Other modes may be con- 
trived by persons of mechanical cleverness, for producing the concrete move- 
ment on a sounding-pipe either of metal or wood. 

Perhaps this mechanism might be connected with the vox-humana stop of an 
organ, or even the ventages of a bassoon. If this is practicable, it may give to 
instruments a little more of the character of the singing voice than they at 
present possess. 

I cannot say how much further the principle might be applied, for adding 
the wider ranges of the concrete, by a ventage of greater reach in the pipe. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 607 

Of the Time of Song. Time is here considered, only in rela- 
tion to individual constituents, not to the general construction of 
melody and its rythmus. 

Time is used with every degree of duration, on the note, on the 
upward and downward concrete, and on the wave. When, in 
quick-timed song it is so short as to exclude the note, the effect 
of the individual act of intonation does not differ from that of the 
radical and vanish of speech. 

Of Vocality in Song. Vocality has the same character and 
effect, in song and in speech. But the long quantities of the for- 
mer consisting of the protracted tonics, they are here more ob- 
vious. It may be harsh, full, slender, and nasal, and what is 
called in the language of the schools, Pure Tone. This subject 
is however so well known to singers, as to need no further con- 
sideration here. 

A subject of physiological inquiry, connected equally with 
song and speech, here deserves our notice. It is learned by a 
few trials, that all the tonic and most of the other elements may 
be made individually by the act of Inspiration*. The vocality is 
strangely altered; still the characteristic sound is complete. It 
would seem them the vocal functions are practicable both in the 
ebb and the flow of respirationj though the former has been uni- 
versally appointed to carry out the continued current of speech. 
As the inward flow of inspiration permits the utterance of only 
a single word, or at most three or four, the effect of inward speech 
resembles that of infants, upon their first attempts in expired 
speech. We have not for the purpose of inward speech, the 
Holding-breath, as we formerly called it, and therefore the act 

The mechanism even for the Second would not be simple, and the management 
of more than one concrete-key, if I may so call it, might be beyond the dexterity 
of the player. What could be done on barrel-organs, machinists can best tell. 

Automaton Figures have been made to speak, as it is called ; but it is in the 
thorough stress of the protracted note proper to song. Would not the imitation 
of speech be nearer, if the sound were by its instrumental cause, formed into 
the equable concrete? 

On the whole, I shall be sorry if any one should lose his labor by a vain 
working at this problem. It is not the odd-ends of time that ever do anything 
veil: and if the schemer should be disposed to devote one useful day, to the 
wasteful hazards of mechanical ingenuity, in such matters as here proposed, 
let him take, at the same time, a hint of caution. 



608 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

of inspiration, bearing its single word, immediately fills the lungs, 
as the Exhausting-breath with the infant, reversely drains them, 
and cuts off the course of utterance. 

It may then be made a question, whether by a practice as long 
and assiduous as that which gives command over the time of ex- 
piration, the same holding-breath might not be attained in inspi- 
ration; and, should the vocality of this inward voice, be improv- 
able, whether it might not be employed in the purposes of singing, 
for sustaining the voice indefinitely, and for insuring a continuous 
intonation in the higher intricacies of execution. It is knowm; 
this power has been attained in whistling, both as regards shril- 
ness, and the accuracy of pitch: and though in this case, the 
command over the holding-breath of expiration, far surpasses the 
command over that of inspiration, still, the turning point for in- 
haling may be rendered almost imperceptible, through the con- 
troling power that does exist. It has been proposed to apply the 
command over inspired speech, to the cure of stammering: but 
this irregular articulation may depend on unknown causes, in the 
mind as well as m the vocal muscle, and on a defective consent 
between them; in which case, no advantage would be gained by 
inhaled articulation.* 

Of Force of Voice in Song. Force has reference either to the 
general drift of the voice, or to its individual movements. We 
shall consider it only in the latter relation. 

All the forms of stress we have ascribed to speech are found 
in song. This is true, not only of the equable concrete, some- 
times used in the short impulses of the singing voice; but the 
radical, the median, and the vanishing stress, are also severally 
applied to the protracted note, and to every course and extent of 
the wave. 

The full and abrupt radical being always preceded by an occlu- 
sionj it may have a place at the outset of all the forms of the 
concrete^ and at the outset of the protracted radical or the note, 
represented in the two conditions of the preceding diagram. A 

* The Opera, and Concert Hall, in their Auctions of Fame, bid high for the 
execution of vocal difficulties. Here then is the chance of an enormous pay, 
for success in what, as far as known, has never been done before ; and what 
at first thought, may seem to be impossible. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 609 

note at the termination of a rising or of a falling concrete can- 
not receve the radical stress. 

The greater duration of time, allotted to the different forms of 
the concrete and to the protracted notes, beyond that allowable 
in speech, gives rise to a modification of the median stress or 
swell, not practicable on the sylabic concrete of discourse; for 
more than one of these swells may be set on the same note; or 
the force may diminish and increase alternately. The median 
stress may also on a protracted quantity, slightly resemble re- 
spectively that of the radical and of the vanish, by suddenly 
enlarging in the course of the prolongation and gradually dimin- 
ishing; and by the reverse. This however, is a physiological 
refinement; and we are not yet ready for its practical use. 

Some of the stresses are perhaps applicable to the radical and 
vanish, on the short sylabic intonation of comic song. 

A very remarkable use of force is made by the compound 
stress, in that vocal ornament called the Trill, or Shake. 

The shake is described to be, a rapid alternation of a lower 
with an upper note, on proximate degrees of the diatonic scale. 
In stricter definition, it is a rapid alternation of two vocal or 
instrumental momentary sounds, for they are not notes, on the 
extremes of a tone or a semitone. Let us call these two con- 
stituents of the shake, its Co-sounds. 

We learned that every concrete impulse on a tonic or subtonic 
element, necessarily consists of a radical and vanish. Conse- 
quently, when we make two successive impulses on different de- 
grees of pitch, each must have these two essential portions of the 
concrete. But as the radical with its vanish consumes more time 
than the radical alone; and as the radical is an abrupt opening, 
after an occlusion, there would be, in this manner of making the 
shake, a delay from employing the whole time of the two portions 
of each concrete; as well as a momentary pause, between the 
close of the vanish on the first, and the opening of the radical 
on the second. The shake then being a rapid iteration of two 
co-sounds, without apparent interruption, it cannot be made by a 
series of concrete impulses each having its radical and vanish. 
For should a singer try to execute a shake by taking the whole 
of the dipthong a-le, as one of the co-sounclsj he cannot, by any 



610 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

effort, give its characteristic rapidity, when the first sound of a-\e 
is the beginning of each of its successive co-sounds; as the vanish, 
e-ve must necessarily follow the radical a-le, we employ the whole 
time of both the radical and vanishj which makes each co-sound 
too long for a rapid execution of the shake. By assigning each 
of the co-sounds respectively to the radical, and to the summit of 
the vanish of this dipthong, thus forming the Compound Stress, 
there will be no insuperable difficulty in its execution. And the 
same is true of a shake on the other dipthongs, their respective 
co- sounds being different in elemental vocality. In the case of 
the monothongs, their several co-sounds are the same. 

The rapid execution of the shake, and the momentary impulse 
of its co-sounds, make it a difficult subject of investigation. The 
resemblance however, of the intonation of the vocal, to that of an 
instrumental shake, affords a proof that the former like the latter, 
consists of two sounds on different degrees of pitch. It also ap- 
pears, from the like ilustration by an instrument, that the" co- 
sounds, though of different degrees of pitch, are of equal time, 
volume, and force.* 

* It may seem, that the shake might be made by each of the co-soimds being 
the momentary utterance of what we called the rapid concrete: and as this 
instinctively flies through with the radical and vanish, apparently as quick as 
a single co-sound, our explanation of an artificial and very difficult manner of 
deriving the fluent and rapid movement of the shake, from the slow accentual- 
efforts of the compound stress-j may seem to be unnecessary or incorrect. It 
may seem, being by the mass of mere Thinkers, from interest or other motive, 
so readily changed into it is^ there is no calculating the mischief it has done. 
I will not therefore oppose what may seem on one side, by what may seem on 
the others for we should then have to invoke the aid of Plato, Aristotle, and 
the ancient as well as the modern itinerant and lecturing Sophists^ but will 
only state, that the may seem on our side, has already been submitted to de- 
cisive observation, and experiment, in the instinctive tremor of the voice; and 
we have in the Guryle of the throat, an iteration of the rapid concrete with 
both its radical and vanish. Now this is not a shake; nor can any skill or 
velocity ever make one of it. Vocalists call it the 'Goat's Quiver,' or some 
such name, though they have not been able to show the difference of structure 
between the Quiver and the Shake. Our history tells us that the Gurgle or 
Quiver is formed by the Tittles of the second or of the semitone, on the tremu- 
lous scale; the Shake, by a rapid execution of the compound stress, on either 
of these intervals. Before the invention of the shaken which is altogether Arti- 
ficial, and is said to be of comparatively recent application to song^ this Gurgle, 
or 'Trembling,' as the French formerly called it, was used as a vocal orna- 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 611 

From our previous views, the formation of the shake may be 
described under two conditions; in each, the delay that might 
arise from every impulse having both a radical and a vanish^ 
which we have shown, creates the whole difficulty of the casej 
is obviated by a subdivision of the concrete movement into the 
Compound stress. 

For representing the first formative condition; let the summit 
of the concrete impulse, or the vanishing portion, be enforced to 
an equality w r ith the radical. We shall then have one impressive 
sound at each extreme of the impulse, joined by a smooth transi- 
tion of the fainter concrete, and forming the first two co-sounds 
of the shake; which, in this case, are both made within the time 
required for one impulse, when that impulse contains both a 
radical and a vanish. The vanishing stress, or what, in this 
instance, is improperly called the upper note of the shake, being 
terminated by an occluded catch, as in the sob and hiccups the 
voice is enabled by an immediate opening of that occlusion, to 
begin a new radical stress, improperly called the lower note; and 
by breaking from the occluded vanish of one impulse into the 
radical of the next, and so, saving the time of transition through 
one whole concrete with both its radical and vanish, the rapid 
and apparently united co-sounds of the shake are effected. In 
the following diagram^ 

2 4 



the lines a and b denote two proximate degrees of the scale. The 
figure 1 the radical stress, or lower co-sound of the shake: 2 the 

ment. It is instinctively practiced for Laughter and Crying, and for other 
purposes in the human voice; is found among sub-animals of all classes: and 
is distinguished from the shake by the slightly abrupt and chattering radical of 
the tittles. In the aspirated grating, scratching or chattering of the insect- 
voice, the tremor is exemplified by our common Black Cricket j Acheta ab- 
brevia',a; and the shake, though not a rapid one, with the median swell on its 
course, by the Cicada pruinosa, or Annual Locust of the Middle States. 



612 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

vanishing stress, or upper co-sound, on which the voice is oc- 
cluded. In an imperceptible instant, this occlusion breaks out 
into the next radical stress 3. The voice is then diminished in 
force; and again increased to its vanishing stress, and occlu- 
sion at 4. 

When made in this way, the shake may be considered as a 
rapid iteration of the compound stress, between the extremes of 
a tone or a semitone. 

For the second condition, let us take the first two of the co- 
sounds, or as we may call them, co-stresses, described and ilus- 
trated above. Deliberate trial will prove that an application of 
stress to the upper extreme of the rising concrete at 2, and to 
the lower at 3, as represented in the last diagram, in no way, 
prevents the voice, from making a downward continuous turn, 
from 2 to 3, in one case, and an upward continuous turn, from 3 
to 4, in the other, into the form of a continued wave: and by an 
alternate succession of these radical and vanishing stresses, or 
expansions, joined by the fainter concrete, but without an occlusion 
of voice, we are able to effect a rapid iteration of the co-sounds of 
the shake; as represented in the following diagram^ where the 
voice opens at 1, with the radical stress; then diminishes to the 
faint concrete ; subsequently enlarges to the vanishing stress at 
2 ; then ivithout an occlusion, turns downward, and after diminish- 
ing to the faint concrete, enlarges to the stress in the radical 
place at 3 ; and in this way, when rapidly executed, forms the 
proper co-sounds, or co-stresses, or co-expansions of the vocal 
shake. 

2 4 



=3flfifiAfi; 



1 3 



Under this view, the shake is a rapid alternation of the com- 
pound stress, on the rising and falling constituents of a continued 
wave of proximate degrees. And by it we learn, that the iterated 
co-sounds are not notes, but emphatic stresses of no assignable 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 613 

time, on the points of contrary flexure in the wave. But as there 
can be a sudden fulness of the voice, only on a first outbreak of 
the radicalj an engrafting of the vanishing stress on the concrete, 
at the place of the second or upper sound, must be made by a 
swell or expansion into the fulness of that stress. From 2, the 
fulness being diminished, is again swelled into the lower sound at 
3; giving the shake the form represented in the diagram. This 
junction of the stresses by an intermediate and attenuated con- 
crete, with the gliding of one into the other, is the cause of the 
smoothness, and of the 'liquidity,' as it is called, of a skilful and 
finished execution of this vocal ornament. The peculiar manner 
of uniting this double stress with rapid intonation, in the shake, 
not being part of the coloquial and slower uses of the voice, for 
the compound stress in speech consists of but two co-sounds, it is 
not surprising^ the power of executing it, is unattainable by most 
singers, and only acquired, in any case, after a long time, by 
great industry and perseverance. 

This is an attempt to explain the manner of combining stress 
and intonation in the shake. And yet, I am unable to give an 
unquestionable description of it. By a slow and measurable 
movement of my own voice, I perceve, it can be made under each 
of the conditions above described. When it is quickened to its 
characteristic rapidity, the distinct perception of its structure 
and motion is lost, and I find it impossible to decide, which of 
the conditions is then employed : though strongly inclined to think 
it is the latter. With the assistance of the analysis here offered, 
some other observer may describe it more definitely. 

Perhaps the explanation here given, may furnish a rule for 
teaching the practice of the shake. A method founded on this 
analysis, enabled me, with no other instructors than Observation 
and Industry,- to attain a command over it, with a precision and 
rapidity, sufficient for the purposes of the present investigation: 
which certainly, could not, unassisted by a Master, have been as 
easily, if at all accomplished, without a knowledge of the com- 
pound stress, experimentally applied in reference to the radical 
explosion, and the vanishing sob. It would be difficult to say, 
how far the aid of our description might lessen the time and 
labor of the Conservatorio, in teaching the practice of the shake. 



614 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

As the compound stress is practicable on every interval, so a 
shake might be composed of an iteration of that stress on the 
extremes of wider intervals : and a slow shake of this- kind, is 
sometimes heard among the tricks of the Florid song : but it is 
not technically classed with that ornament. It has a singular, 
and as I have heard it, not an agreeable effect ; and the width of 
the concrete, preventing the rapidity of the proper shake, it has 
not its liquidity, nor its hovering pre-cadencial character. 

It is a question among vocalists, whether the 'accent' as they 
call it, is on the upper or the lower 'note,' or as we now regard 
it, co-sound of the shake. From our preceding account of this 
ornament, no cause appears, for a difference of opinion in this 
case, and for anything like an accent on either. There may be 
the usual rythmic perception of accent on the bar or bars through 
which the shake is sustained ; and with this mental beat, there 
might be a slight momentary swell on the co-sounds, at the points 
of these beats. But I cannot hear even this; and cannot there- 
fore beleve there is an alternate accent of force, much less an 
inequality in time, between the upper and the lower co-sounds. 
Once admit it, and there would be an alternation both of stress 
and of pitch that would destroy the even and graceful undulation, 
and the liquidity of the shake; and change the function to that 
of the tremulous gurgle. 

Vocalists have described several kinds of shake. With its 
proper structure and effect, I can observe but two ; the diatonic 
and the semitonic, severally formed on a tone and a semitone. 
What has been called a Rising and a Falling shake, is perhaps 
only the gurgling, or rising and falling radical pitch of the rising 
and falling of the tremor; for as the tremor is not made up of 
co-sounds, or compound stresses, but of rapid concretes with each 
its radical and vanishj the terms rising and falling, which do 
apply to the course of the tremor or gurgle, and not to the con- 
tinued line of the shake, have been improperly retained, after the 
introduction of the peculiar iteration on proximate co-sounds. 
This true shake, after continuing along its level line of pitch, 
may be skipped a degree, or perhaps more, and then continued 
on this new line. But when carried directly upward or down- 
ward, by proximate degrees, through more or less of the scale; 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 615 

which would make it a rising or falling shakej the course of the 
co-sounds is called a Division, the structure and movement of 
which will be presently described. Other shakes enumerated in 
books, are only particular uses of that ornament; or only com- 
binations of it, with various forms of intonation. 

The meaning and peculiar effect of the shaken for it cannot 
except on the semitone, be called Expressive of the state of mindj 
may be stated under Five heads ; and First. The most striking 
and agreeable character of the shake lies in its refined, its tuna- 
ble, and as it were, its polished vocality; which however I here 
consider with reference, exclusively to the high pitch of the So- 
prano voice. In men, generally speaking, the shake, like most 
of their florid execution, denotes in their lower pitch, and rougher 
vocality, little more than a muscular difficulty; for a low pitch, 
with a hollow fulness, as we learn from instruments, destroys the 
essential elegance of the shake ; though perhaps the harmony of 
a tenor and soprano, where the latter takes the lead on the ear, 
produces the most delightful effect of this ornament. Second. 
There is in the shake, what has been called, its Liquidity. This 
arises in part, from its vocality, and in part from the smooth and 
rapid gliding of the concrete into the expansions of the co-sounds; 
and is therefore more effective in the higher voices of women. 
Third. An agreeable effect is produced by the variety of one or 
more swells, in the continued line of the co-sounds. Fourth. The 
preceding remarks apply equally to both the shakes. But the 
semitone is distinguished by a pathetic character, though moder- 
ated perhaps, by the rapidity of the transit of the concrete and 
its co-sounds through the interval; and by an overruling impres- 
sion of vocality ; with the liquid pouring from one co-sound to 
another, in the current of their intonation. Fifth. I am dis- 
posed to class the effect of the shake, particularly the diatonic, 
with that of a downward skip, or a concrete of the third, in the 
Prepared Cadence of speech : for, as it seemsj the balanced sus- 
pension or hawk-like flutter of a prolonged shake, before its final 
stoop to the key-note, creates the expectation of a descent, and 
calls for the immediate close of song, similar in manner and effect, 
to that of the falling of a third, for the prepared and reposing 
cadence of discourse. 



616 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

There is another occasion, on which the compound stress is 
used in song. 

When an extent of the whole compass of the voice, greater or 
less than the seven degrees of the scale, is rapidly traversed, but 
with a marked designation of each degree in the flight, it is called, 
i running a Division.' We have seen, in the formation of the 
shake, that adjoining points of the scale cannot be marked in 
rapid succession by concretes, where each contains both the radi- 
cal and vanish ; it is necessary therefore in executing a Division, 
that the compound stress should be used, under one of the two 
conditions of its rapid execution, above described. In the first, 
the concrete receves the radical abruptness, and the vanishing 
occluded catch. This occlusion prepares the way for a second 
radical, and by successive concretes of compound stress, with a 
momentary but imperceptible occlusive catch between them, the 
degrees of the Division are rapidly traversed, and distinctly 
marked. For the second condition, we must suppose the voice 
to make a concrete movement through the scale, to the whole ex- 
tent of the designed Division; and the expansion of an emphatic 
stress to be applied on each of the proximate degrees of the scale, 
within that extent. This may be ilustrated, by supposing the 
chain of oblique figures in the second diagram of the shake, 
drawn-out vertically to a straight linej representing the stresses 
on the proximate degrees of a rising or a falling scale. A Divi- 
sion is then, a rapid iteration of the compound stress, on every 
proximate degree of the scale, for a given extent, in an upward 
or downward direction. 

There are various ways of running a division, or as we may 
call it, a Chain of compound stress. In long sweeps of agility, 
the whole compass of the voice may be passed through in one 
continued chain of an upward or downward, so to call it, knotted 
movement ; or the progress may be less extensive ; or it may be 
made by varied groups of compound stresses, with a pause be- 
tween the aggregates. In short, the compass may be traversed 
in numberless ways, by the pitch, time, and manner of succes- 
sion, of the co-sounds. Sometimes the run is by the proximate 
step of a semitone: but whatever the movements may be, they 
are all performed on the principle of the compound stress. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 617 

Of the Melody of Song. Having described the particular forms 
of pitch, time, and stress, we may now take a general view of their 
combinations into Melody. 

The structure of melody exhibits every variety in the number 
of its constituents, and in their interchangeable succession, from 
the use of a simple protracted note with its quick and almost 
imperceptible concrete of a second, which we called Discrete- 
songj to that of every form of the concrete, and of every form of 
stress, particularly the compound^ constituting ' airs of agility ' 
or 'florid execution;' which we called Concrete-song. This dis- 
tinction however serves only to mark the extremes of a varied 
use of the voice ; song being rarely heard in the strictly discrete 
form ; and when once the concrete movement of wider intervals 
than the second is admitted, no definite line of separation can be 
drawn between the constituents of its structure. It was shown, 
in describing the drift of melody in Speech, that the three divisions 
of the states of mind and of the voice, though manifestly different 
in their several exclusive and restricted uses, often so run into 
each other, as to prevent a systematic separation of their inter- 
mingled signs. And we have the same difficulty of classification 
with the intercurrent melody or style of Song. 

In general terms then, and without pretending to describe the 
confines of each, I would call the Discrete-melodyj That which 
moves by proximate degrees, and by radical change, under the 
form of intonation represented in the first two scales of the pro- 
tracted radical and vanish; and showing occasionally, because it 
can scarcely be avoided, a concrete movement of some of the 
wider intervals, and of the wave. This is the style of song used 
by the Church, when the Choir is assisted by the Congregation. 
It is suited to the common capacity of the voice, and resembles 
the instrumental effect of the organ which accompanies it. 

I would call the Concrete-melodyj That disposition of the 
note, concrete, wave, compound stress, and every form of time 
and intonation, which, united with the Discrete, constitutes, 
within due limits, the delightful union of nature and art, in the 
expression of song ; but which forced beyond the just bounds of 
vocal facility, produces the extraordinary and unmeaning flights 
of a fantastic and wonder-working execution. An execution that 
40 



618 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONO. 

has too often cunningly joined the profits of the Artist with the 
mere difficulties of his art ; and with all who do not see through 
the vicious combination, confounds a fanatical interest in the 
vocal artifices, name, and fashion of a Singer, with the cultivated 
feeling and taste of a musical ear. An execution that has at 
last brought an audience, too often to mistake a falling-in with 
the noisy applause of a surrounding crowd, for their own indi- 
vidual perception of the expression of melody, and to the harmo- 
nizing richness of its perfecting accompaniment.* 

Upon this, and our previous history, we are now prepared 
to sum up the differences between the construction of song and 
speech. 

The Discrete-melody of song, though resembling in a few points 
the melody of speech, is still remarkably distinguished from it, by 
the effect of the protracted note, and by the more frequent occur- 
rence of wider transitions in the radical change. 

In the Concrete-melody of song, under its most complicated 
form, for I choose an extreme case, the difference consists still 
further in the kind, number, and uses of its movements. The 
range of its melodial compass excedes that of proper speech. The 
compound stress, under rapid iteration in the shake, and in the 
rapid run of divisions, is the most frequent constituent of airs of 

* When this medley of the vocal constituents, with all its studied difficulties, 
was first taken over to England, for salej it was advertised as the- Italian Man- 
ner: and indeed its mannerism was then regarded, and properly too, as a 
caricature ; for certainly its Bravura-song is an exaggeration, and its Recita- 
tive a misplaced distortion of the natural voice of expression. But wonder 
and novelty are the chief Idols of popular Taste; and whoever then possessed 
a little vocal facility soon began to imitate the long-drawn concretes and waves 
of the New Importation. To this we owe the monotonous Squeel, taught by 
the Singing-Master in the Italian Style, with its ever-and-anon returning wave, 
surging upon the ear, and drowning-out the rest of the song: a sad fate to a 
Taste that happens to be in the neighborhood of a fashionable young lady who 
frequents the Opera, and of the sewing-girl over the way, who has learned from 
her, to execute those every half-minute Squeeling waves, equally well. 

It is often easier to find causes, than excuses for an offense. Perhaps the 
universal fashion, of our Italian-taught Misses affecting this repeated Porta- 
mento and Sostenuto, in a high Soprano wave, with its median stress, is en- 
couraged by a family recolection of the perverse Squeeling of their little 
brothers and sisters, and even of themselves^ when children begin to have their 
own noisy way in the nursery. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 619 

agility; by the speaking voice it is used only in the two co-sounds 
of a slow and single concrete. A function common to both is the 
equable concrete, which is sometimes set to the short sylables of 
song; though common perception does not then recognize it as a 
characteristic of speech. The wider waves too, occasionally used 
for emphasis in discourse, occur perpetually in the florid song. 

Of the Expression of Song. Expression in song, and in other 
music is effected by the power of exciting certain states of mind, 
which in this case we properly call Feelings* by means of the 
pitch, time, force, vocality, and abruptness of sound. 

It appears from this definition, that the materials of expression 
in song are the same as those in speech: though some difference 
will be found in their special employment, and respective effect, 
in the two cases. The Italians who have extensively taught us in 
musicj and who, with the purpose of their art changed perhaps to 
a vain-glorious authority, enslave too many fashionable, and often 
musical ears to their National Mannerism^ have divided their 
song, with reference, rather to the style of its execution, and the 
places in which it is displayed, than to its expression. I am only 
hinting at an arrangement, upon the points of its rudimental 
functions and their effects upon the feelings. 

In a general view of the subject of expression, we findj the 
dignity of Song is produced by the same fulness in vocality, 
length of time, gravity in pitch, and limitation of the extent of 
concrete and of radical pitch, that give an elevated and solemn 
character to reading. There can be no grandeur in a melody 
with the reverse of these conditions. 

A lively style of song, on the contrary, like the sprightly 
manner of discourse, is made by a lighter vocality; a quicker 
time; wider intervals of concrete, and of radical pitch; and a 
greater variety in its successions. The Aria Buffa or the Comic 
Song, generally consists of such short quantities, that most of its 
sylabic impulses are made in the true equable-concrete of speech : 
and the only causes, as it appears to me, why it is known to be 
song, are its having a barred time, an occasional long quantity, 
and a concrete and radical pitch of wider intervals, than those of 
the current of speech. 

The plaintive effect of the semitone, and of the minor third, 



620 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

which is only a peculiar position of the semitone, is similar to 
the chromatic character of spoken melody. Perhaps as remarked 
above, we ought to consider the expression of the cadence as 
similar in these two uses' of the voice; for the return to the key- 
note in song, does, like the intonation at the periods of discourse, 
produce the agreeable feeling of satisfaction and repose. 

Let us take another and more particular view of expression, 
with reference to the different kinds of melody. And Firstj 

Of the Discrete- Song. This is not without expression, though it 
falls short of what is effected by a judicious use of the more ex- 
tended, and varied vocal movements. Its sources are derived 
from vocality, pitch, time, and stress. 

The tunable sound of a prolonged note may give a peculiar 
character to song. Fulness produces in the hearer the state of 
solemnity; smoothness that of grace; and in the grotesk efforts 
of the comic song, the extreme and distorted variations of Yocality 
excite a perception of the gay or the ridiculous. On the subject 
of this last named mode; the principles of expression are similar 
in speech and song: but perhaps its effect is more obvious in the 
latter. 

The expression of Pitch consists in the transition through 
certain intervals. The discrete-melody can therefore display the 
plaintiveness of the semitone, and occasionally of the minor third; 
together with what may be effected by the successions of other 
intervals of the scale. 

The Discrete-song may, by its Time, be either grave or gay. 
It appears, that the longer quantity of song is more agreeable 
than the short sylabic impulses of speech, even when they each 
have the same melodial order of pitch. This perhaps arises from 
a memorial connection of the protracted notes of song, with the 
expressive effect of long quantity in speech ; for extended quantity 
both in speech and song, is always the sign of either an energetic, 
or dignified state of mind. 

The radical and the median stress are applicable to the pro* 
tracted note of the discrete-melody ; but a varied swell of the 
median, constitutes the principal means of expression. The pro- 
tracted note may also bear the tremor. 

Some of the less expressive forms of the wave may be admitted 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OP SONG. 621 

into what I have called, without assigning a very definite boundary 
to it, the discrete-song. 

Our limited knowledge, in time-past, of the constituents of 
speech, together with our vague and imperfect notions and nomen- 
clature of the states and actions of the mind, has created a diffi- 
culty in arranging the intermingled vocal signs of thought and 
passion. It is the same with song. We can assign no exact line 
to the difference between the discrete and the concrete melody. 
It may however assist the purpose of system and nomenclature, 
to make an intermediate division, similar to that proposed in our 
sixth section, for the Inter-thoughtive or Reverentive style. We 
will then apply the term Mixed melody, to a style consisting in 
part of the constituents of the other two. 

From some very general descriptions, and some known par- 
ticulars of the Greek song, it might be infered that its most 
esteemed melody was of this Mixed character, enriched with all 
the concrete graces of expression, admissible into its simple 
structure. I speak of song, rendered touching, self-relying, and 
unambitious; song, with its all-sufficient melodial, andj as far as 
then known, its peculiar harmonic resources for delight* free from 
vain intrusion of hard-taught difficulties; and restricted to itself 
by the effective principles of Grecian taste. For we must sup- 
pose, nay we know from a satirical record^ there was a like cold 
caprice in composition, and a like difficulty in execution some- 
times shown-off for the profit of the Singer, and for the noisy 
excitement of an Athenian Audience, that at present so often 
slight the natural and universal feeling of the ear, to exalt the 
fantastic vanity of the fingers and the throat. 

In the intermediate style of Mixed melody, the simple dignity, 
pathos, grandeur, or gayety of the discrete, is combined with the 
more varied and expressive constituents of the concrete melody, 
forming a peculiar style of song. A style, which employed 
under the direction of feeling and taste, produces effects in the 
highest degree impressive and delightful. A style that has been, 
is now, and ever will be, the most generally gratifying to the in- 
stinctive and esthetically educated ear. For, though it perceves 
and may wonder at muscular facility and precision, yet rarely 
feels any effect from concrete flourishes, and agility in vocaliza- 



622 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

tion, striving to refine upon and to surpass itselfj and which 
require the delightful melody of the 'Aria' to preserve the fan- 
tastic mannerism, and mongrel recitative of the Italian Opera 
from the sadness of a meager audience^ except of those who go to 
look at one another's dresses, and to think of themselves. 

It has been thoughtj the Qantus planus of the early Christian 
Salmody, improved afterwards to the Ambrosian and the Gre- 
gorian Chant, is a traditional descent of a form of Greek Temple- 
Music, . through the old Roman ritual. However this may be, 
there is a striking analogy, both as to structure and effect, be- 
tween the Diatonic melody, and the Plain- Chant, in its early 
simplicity. This Chant, we are told, employed but four lines of 
the staff in the range of its pitch; the succession of its notes was 
by proximate degrees, through the radical pitch of a second; it 
never set more than one note to a sylable; and used but two 
divisions of time, the long and the short. In this account, sub- 
stitute the term Equable concrete for that of Note, and the re- 
semblance is in many points remarkable. The Plain- Chant is an 
example of what we have called the discrete-song, and in its use 
had originally, and when not desecrated by 'modern improve- 
ments ' of wider concrete and discrete intervals, and by affected 
gracesj still has, in its holy purpose of worship and prayer, that 
deep and long-drawn note of solemn dignity, which is but a trans- 
cending degree of the character, given to epic and dramatic read- 
ing, and to parts of the Church-service, by the fulness and quantity 
of an orotund voice, in the diatonic melody.* 

* We have in the course of this Work, pointed out similarities between the 
principles of Music and of Elocution, and have shown their very materials or 
tunable constituents, with the exception of the Note, to be common to both. 

The further we look into the Arts, the more closely we find them by their 
principles, related to each other: yet who will say, there is a resemblance 
between Architecture and Speech? To the eye and ear of the Doorkeeper, who 
within the grandeur of the Capitol, was obliged to listen to Cicero, there could 
have been none. But turn an inquiring and reflective mind to a consideration 
of the causes that constitute, or create, a similarity between them^ and observe 
how, in the analytic Perspective of a philosophic taste, their conditions approach 
each other: and with a still extended view, how, by the principles that direct 
them, they mingle into one. 

I have long thought of the analogy to which I here allude; but beleving it 
might pass for a metaphoric extravagance, rather than an ilustration, I have 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OP SONG. 623 

Second. Of Concrete- Song. This melody, in its forms of into- 
nation, time, and force, is varied from the limits of the Mixed 
style, to that intricate and affected composition of the extreme 
Bravura^ which by turning words into vowels, destroys the mean- 
ing of language; and by a continued whirling of these vowels, 
confounds every feeling excited by the more natural song. 

The means of expression in the unexaggerated forms of this 
melody include those of the Discrete and the Mixed; with the 
addition of other more elaborate forms of intonation. The further 
use of the radical and median force on the rising and falling con- 
crete, as well as on the wave, adds a brilliant variety to its char- 
acter. We have in the Bravuras and Volatas of this kind of 
song, all the extraordinary coloring of the compound stress, in 
the production of the shake, and of the endless run of Divisions 
through their course of stress and intonation. It likewise com- 
mands the powers of the Tremulous scale, both through the 
plaintiveness of the semitone, and the laughing movement of 
wider intervals. 

All the forms of expression, both in the Concrete and the Dis- 
crete song, whether of the grave, the gay, or the plaintive; and 
whether produced by pitch, time, vocality, or force, are to be con- 
sidered as independent of any purpose in thought or meaning : 
for it will be shown presently, that except in some accidental or 

not till this last moment, the date of the fourth Edition, dared to call the Dia- 
tonic Melody, the Doric order of Speech. In this country at least, I have met 
with none, so much interested in the Esthetic principles of these arts, as to wish 
to discover, or desire to be told their points of resemblance. When however, I 
think of a Doric Peripteral Temple with its marble-purity, brightly distinct in 
structure and outline, to the neighboring eye, yet still distinctly traceable in 
distant prospect; with its compendious Design at once upon my memory, in 
clearness of image second only to reality^ I see an ambitious sameness in form 
and light, yet Varied in line, and shadow, just to show-forth the striking elegance 
of its Unity^ a Grandeur rising above heaviness, till it appears in Graces and a 
Simplicity, with only such appropriate ornaments as make them harmonious 
parts of an undivided whole. With this picture before me, it brings-up in re- 
lated effect, the likeness of Roscius again upon the Stage, breaking his silence, 
with the gravity and fulness of the thoughtive orotund; and impressing the 
respectful ear by a simplicity in time and intonation^ varied only to give grace 
to its dignity ; and rising occasionally, with contrasted interval, and force, to 
beautify and not to destroy the plain and impressive unity of diatonic speech. 



624 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

habitual connections, song has, apart from the words which 
may accompany it, an imintelectual expression altogether of 
its own. 

As song employs in its composition, the expressional means of 
speech, it might be supposed that certain movements must have 
in each case an identical effect. Yet it is not always so. We 
have learned that some signs, as the semitone, the laughing and 
crying tremor, and long quantity, do represent the same state 
of mind in both : but many forms of intonation lose their mean- 
ing and force when separated from words, and transfered to song. 
On the subject of the vocal signs of thought and passion, it was 
shownj their purpose is not only modified by conventional lan- 
guage, but is sometimes purely dependent upon it. This was 
ilustrated by reference to the voices of birds: and song affords a 
still more satisfactory proof. For as its elaborate structure does 
employ all those forms of concrete and radical pitch, and of the 
wave, which produce the expression of speech, it would seem, we 
ought during the varied course of its melody, to be constantly 
recognizing the vocal signs of interrogation, surprise, positive- 
ness, sneer, contempt, and raillery; whereas the florid song which 
makes the freest use of these signs, never conveys any of these 
states except when joined to language that describes them. 

Song, nevertheless, without the use of words, may be power- 
fully expressive; and it is so by the use of these very concretes, 
quantities, waves, and swelling stresses, that give the thoughtive 
and passionative meaning to speech. The expression of song is 
produced in a manner peculiar to itself, and in very few, if any 
instances has relation to the thought or passion of particular 
words or phrases. Persons who enjoy the melody of song must 
percevej the feelings created by it are so indefinite^ they are not 
able to refer them to any other source, than that of primary per- 
ception, or of subsequent memory; nor to reduce the expression 
to anything more than certain classes of effects. 

Upon this subject I would ask two questions. Has song a 
system of expression properly its own, and does our indefinite 
perception of its forms arise from this system never having been 
analyzed and rendered familiar and specific by names? Or does 
the expression of song depend on some connection between its 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 625 

vocal movements, and those of speech; the former assuming the 
agreeable effect of the latter, without their definite meaning? 

By a comparison of the characteristics of speech and of song, 
it appears that song has a system of expression of its own, dis- 
tinct in most points from that of speech. If the Reader has fol- 
lowed me attentively, he must admitj the vocal expression of 
speech is derived soley from the concrete and discrete intervals 
of intonation, with the other modes of the voice ; and that he has 
at least heard of the precepts for that expression, if he has not 
the power of accurately executing them. Still we here offer in 
pardonable repetition, a few remarks on the expression of both 
song and speech. 

And first. No thought, term, proposition or meaning is di- 
rectly conveyed in song. By the melodial succession alone of its 
notes, it excites a state of mind, which we distinctively called 
feeling; always agreeable, except under some accidental and 
pervertive circumstances. In song we are further pleased with 
the vocality of its notes; in which its prolongation, is more agree- 
able than in the concrete of speech. It is a question so inviting 
to dispute, that we will not stop to consider^ whether these agree- 
able feelings are exclusively the direct result of the simple vocal 
impression, or are indirectly derived from memory, and in a 
manner, connected with thought. These feelings produced by 
the melodial succession of notes, and by their agreeable vocality 
in prolongation, are therefore peculiar to song. 

After the preceding view of the distinction between speech and 
song, we are prepared to hear, that a succession of intervals in 
song, when joined with the other modes of vocality, time, and 
force, and properly distributed, is, by the melodial relations of 
those intervals, capable of exciting the feelings of Grandeur, 
Solemnity, Plaintiveness, Gayety, and Grace. And if to these 
be added a perception of Oddity, or what has been called the 
Grotesk, they will perhaps include all the classes of effects, that 
independently of any peculiarities of thought and of the ear, seem 
to be within the expressive powers of song. We here exclude all 
those notional and false analogies, between sound and meaning, 
which; to try something like a transcendental metaphor* are more 
remote than far-feteh'd, if a resemblancej but infinitely distant, 



626 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

if at all a paralel ; such as are found in the music of 'Alexander's 
Feast,' 'St. Cecilia's Day,' and the 'Ode on the Passions,' to- 
gether with not a few in Haydn's 'Creation,' Handel's 'Messiah,' 
and all throughout that once fashionable and serious folly, the 
'Battle of Prague.' These pretensions and falsities hold the 
same relation to the real expression of song, that we shall en- 
deavor to show the pretensions and falsities of Recitative do to 
the truth of expression in speech. 

Second. The agreeable expression of song by the mode of 
Pitch, consists in the comparison of one note, with others of a 
proximate, or of a remote degree; for song by its protracted 
notesj and by its key, which definitely marks the places of the 
tones, and semitones in the scale, has in the fixed places of its 
notes, the means for comparing them one with another, that they 
may be heard under what has been considered, a kind of harmony 
in melodial succession.* 

On the effect of this melodial succession of notes alonej without 
the individual note itself exciting or conveying a thoughtive or 
passionative state of mindj the pitch of song altogether depends 
for the means of producing agreeable Feelings of whatever kind. 
But the resource of this melodial succession of notes, speech does 
not possess. Its effects are derived from a power in the indi- 
vidual concrete, and individual discrete interval to express thought 
and passion, independently of a comparison with preceding or 
following concretes. 

Third. The expression of concrete, and of discrete intervals, in 
the melody of speech, differs both in character and cause, from 
that of the succession of the notes of song: though each is, in its 

* In the musical scale, the First, Third, Fifth, and Octave notes, when heard 
together, are said to be concordant: and Harmony to the ear, not its theory, is 
the perception of the effect of simultaneous concordant notes. 

Melody to the ear, regarding only the mode of Pitch, is the perception of the 
effect of certain relationships between successive notes. 

The effects of music arise then, from two conditions of its notes: one simul- 
taneous; the other successive. But the individual notes which produce har- 
mony are so impressive, that when heard in succession, the ear can compare 
the instant-passed, with the instant-present note; and thus perceve a harmoni- 
ous relation between the presently audible and the memorial note. This is 
what I call in the text, harmony in melodial succession. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 627 

own way, variously agreeable, according to the susceptibility of 
the ear and intelect of an audience. We have said the intonation 
of speech, derives its expression, soley from the extent and di- 
rection of the single concrete and discrete interval, and the wave, 
assisted by the other modes of the voice. Plaintiveness^ is the 
effect of the single semitone; interrogation and wonder, of the 
single wider upwardj anger and command, of the single wider 
downward concrete; dignity, of the wave of the second; con- 
tempt and scorn, of the wider single or double waves: the ex- 
pression being here derived altogether from the individual interval 
itself, and not from the relation of one interval to another. For 
though a Fifth, for example, is emphatically perceptible in 
speech, by its contrast with a second, in a diatonic melody, it 
is not that contrast which gives the expression; as the Fifth 
is alike interrogative, both in a thorough interrogative sentence, 
where it is placed beside itself; and when it is unrelated to any 
other interval, on a neighboring sylable. And the same may be 
said of every expressive concrete, either solitary or in series. 
The expression of speech, again to repeat the proposition, is 
therefore derived from the effect of the concrete and discrete 
intervals alone: as speech having no System of Key to direct its 
progressions, cannot excite musical feeling by the harmony of 
melodial successions : for the perpetual sliding of its concretes, 
affords no stationary point nor continuous level line, by which a 
concord with any other point or line might be recognized. The 
words; second, third, fifth, octave, semitone, and wave, that in 
song convey the meaning of a melodial relationshipj designate in 
speech, only concrete and discrete intervals; which in themselves, 
denote thought and passion, by their extent and direction, not by 
any harmonic or melodial relations to each other. 

We have saidj the successions alone, of melody in song, with 
their varieties in time, and without embracing thought or mean- 
ing, produce its peculiar feeling or expression. Hence the per- 
mutations in the order of these notes for an agreeable succession 
would seem to be innumerable. But the more agreeable succes- 
sionsj whether they affect the mind instinctively through the ear, 
or through habit, or by connection with feelings derived from 
other senses^ might perhaps with their appropriate expression, be 



628 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

reduced to a few melodial phrases, and be described and named. 
As far as I have been able to assign the agreeable effects of 
melody, to such phrases, the forms do not seem to be numerous; 
and are really so simple, and comparatively so few, that they 
probably have all been known and used in song, from immemorial 
time; yet their intermingling successions, as it has happened 
with the long unknown and apparently confused phrases of in- 
tonation in speechj have to this day, prevented their being 
separately perceved and named. 

Composers are often charged with plagiary of certain agreea- 
ble passages of melody. But all these passages, or Phrases of 
Expression in song, as they may be called, have long been familiar 
to the ear, and enjoyed by Feeling; and have come down to us 
without known Authorship or Date. On the subject of this com- 
bination of notes into agreeable phrases in the melodial succes- 
sion of song, there can be no more originality, than on that of 
the combination of the elements into sylables of speech; which in 
all their permutations, have throughout time, and among nations, 
already been made. The mass of Composers^ like the mass of 
Writers, respectively, again and again borrow and repeat the 
commonplace phrases of melody and of thought; and only a few, 
like Bacon and Shakspeare, or Haydn and Mozart, choicely select 
and combine those striking, if not original thoughts, in one case, 
and expressive melodial phrases in the other, which, in their 
exalted accordance with nature and truth, are so far above being 
vulgarized by general adoption and imitation, as to seem to be 
always new, and destined to please forever. 

Under the class of phrases of expression in song, are included 
those groups of notes called Graces. And here, speech has no- 
thing directly corresponding to the Beat, the Turn and Shake. 
Perhaps however, there is a remote analogy, in effect, between 
the median stress of speech, and the appogiature; between the 
Tremolo, and the prolongation of the tremor on one line of pitch; 
between the anticipative character of the prepared cadence, and 
the suspension of the shake preceding a close on the key-note of 
song. But why has song been without a classification of other 
phrases, with their peculiar and no less striking expression, than 
that of its named ornamental Graces ? 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 629 

That song has its own peculiar expression, in no way con- 
nected with thought, or meaning of any kind, is proved by a 
well-known fact in lyric history. It has long been the practice 
of song writers, to adapt their verses to the music of existing 
airs; nor, with an exception of the use of the major and the 
minor mode-; of the allegro and penseroso, does this seem to have 
been done, under the assumed fitness of certain melodial phrases 
of the Air, to the thought or passion of the words; language of 
every different meaning and expression being adapted to the same 
air, and receved as satisfactory, without the least perception of a 
want of congruity.* 

It was formerly statedj that the fulest effect of speech, is pro- 
duced by a union of the natural sign with the conventional. 
Others are left to inquire, whether a triple union of the natural 
and conventional sign of thought and passion in speech, with the 
peculiar expression of song, may not give the highest delight to 
the mind and the ear. 

I have here furnished some desultory observations and reflec- 
tions, in answer to the questions above proposed; and have en- 
deavored to show that song has an expression of its own: upon 
the truth of which, if the subject deserves it, others must finally 
decide. 

We are now able to comprehend, why persons who sing with 
the greatest execution, are, under the present state of vocal in- 

* From innumerable instances of this principle, we select the following. 
There is a celebrated English Air applied, to the drinking song-j When Bibo went 
down to the regions below. Bibo in crossing the Styx, called-out to be rowed back, 
for his soul was thirsty. Be quiet, said Charon, you were drunk when you died. 

Row me back then, cried Bibo, I knew not the pain, 
And if drunk when I died, let me die once again. 

This is the air selected for more than one of our Liberty songs. The burden 
of one is the same in measure and intonation withj 'Row me back then, cried 
Bibo.' 

The star-spangled banner, ! long may it wave 
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave. 

Thus the Baccanal and the Patriot find the melody equally expressive; the 
one for his revels, the other of his Glory. 



630 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 

struction, rarely or never good readers. One cause may be found, 
in the difference of the respective movements; and the frequent 
want of a full command over the equable concrete in all its vari- 
eties of time, by singers, who rarely employ it except for the 
short quantities of the comic song. The principal cause however, 
why those distinguished by great vocal flexibility in elaborate 
composition, are generally very indifferent actorsj is that such 
intricate execution is always made with a sacrifice of the proper 
expression of speech. We have learned, that the discrete-melody 
of song has in its use of certain modes and forms of the voice, 
an approximate identity with the expression of speech: and al- 
though the mixed melody, by its varied concretes and its radical 
skips, may have only a remote resemblance to the effect of those 
same constituents in speech, yet it has a peculiar and delightful 
expression of its own. But the Bravura-artifice of the throat, 
occupied only with variety and wonder, admits into its purposes 
neither the dignified and graceful feeling of song, nor the thought- 
ful nor passionative expression of speech. In it, long and short 
quantities, the radical explosion and the median swell, the diatonic 
succession and the chromatic, the plaintive and the laughing tre- 
mor, the various forms of the wave, concrete transitions and dis- 
crete skips from the deepest bass to a piercing falsette, the com- 
pound stress in all its forms of shake and division, are made to 
play with each other in every variety of permutation. And as 
the voice like the throat of the mocking-bird, mingles all its pos- 
sibilities, without regard to expressive design, the singer thereby 
confusing that instinctive connection between thought and. pas- 
sion, and their vocal sign, which good speaking always requires^ 
and between feeling and a certain succession of notes, which 
should also be the means of expression in song; so the habitual 
practice of the ambitious and unmeaning Bravura, destroys, in a 
great degree, a perception of the original signs of feeling in song; 
and by its artificial difficulties and contortions, destroys the com- 
mand over the means, originally ordained for the expression both 
of speech and of song. If I had the opportunities of European 
experience, I might speak with greater knowledge and precision; 
but far as I have observed; singers who excel in the florid execu- 
tion, acquired by the mere drill of the Conservatorio, and exer- 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF SONG. 631 

cised in the rotine of the Concert-room or the Stage, are not 
often gifted with that delicacy of mental perception which some- 
times accompanies the organization of a musical ear. For the 
temperament of a singer can as readily be perceved, in his pecu- 
liar management of time, stress, and intonation, as the thought 
and passion of an original and independent writer can be gathered 
from his style. 

"What is called a musical ear, seems to depend on an inscrutable 
instinct, and the exercise of attentive observation by this sense: 
and though our history indicates, that high accomplishments in 
elocution must always be grounded on its discriminations; still 
the training of the ear, by those who excel in the affected diffi- 
culties of the Florid song, and the formal character both of taste 
and feeling thereby rendered habitualj must in a great measure, 
destroy the connection between the state of mind and its vocal 
sign, constituting the proper expression of speech. There have 
been Actors, who under an enlightened system of Elocutionary 
instruction, might have entered into the philosophy both of pas- 
sion and speech; and who, by discipline, could have reached the 
flexibility of florid execution in the singing voice. And yet we 
have cause to beleve, that had this power over the intricacies of 
song, been habitually exerted, particularly under the absorbing 
vanity, so apt, in this case, to accompany success, it must have 
destroyed the command over the equable concrete, which would 
have enabled them to give their consummate intonation to the 
language of the tragic poet. We will suppose, Mrs. Siddons, 
with a nice perception of Time and Tune, might perhaps have 
joined-voice with the incomparable Mara, in the expressive songs 
of Handel or Mozart, without impairing her power over Shak- 
speare. But she would have been lost forever to all the influence 
of thought and passion over speech, had she been trained with 
Catalani, to that extreme of vocal execution which is said to have 
outstripped the conventional means of notation, within the wonder- 
serving inventions of the composers of the day. 



632 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 



OF RECITATIVE. 

The term Recitative is applied to the intonation of certain 
dramatic and vocal compositions. It had its name from being 
employed for narrative or recital, in contradistinction to the in- 
tonation of song, which was appropriated to express the mental 
state of Feeling. Recitative is however employed at present in 
the Italian Opera, and other compositions, as the supposed means 
of speaking expression, as well as for the common purposes of the 
dialogue. 

Nothing has puzzled musical logicians more than the attempt 
to define this term. 

Rousseau, in his dictionary, speaks of it thus : ' Recitative. A 
discourse recited in a musical and harmonious tone. It is a 
method of singing which approaches nearly to speech, a decla- 
mation in music, in which the musician should imitate as much as 
possible, the inflections of the declaiming (or the speaking) voice.' 

Busby gives the following definition: 'Recitative. A species 
of musical recitation, forming the medium between Air and rhe- 
torical Declamation, and in which the composer and performer, 
rejecting the rigorous rules of time, endeavor to imitate the in- 
flections, accent, and emphasis, of natural speech.' 

One calls 'Recitative, a kind of singing that differs but little 
from ordinary pronunciation.' 

Another says, ' Recitative is speech delivered through the 
medium of musical intonation.' 

And others, still more general, describe it as, ' singing speech,' 
and, 'speaking song.' 

Before we are taught what we require in knowledge, we do not 
perceve how little satisfies us: and although we have yet much to 
learn on the subject of the voice, we have taught ourselves enough, 
to authorize the remark, that all these definitions though written 
to instruct, contain no further explanation, than might be given 
by the humblest auditor at an Oratorio. By the terms of all 
these definitions, Recitative is somehow made-up of speech and 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 633 

song. As the elementary movements of song had, in a degree, 
been known and described, the meaning of its term might have 
been inteligible. But, regarding speech, on which these defini- 
tions are in part constructed, let us hear Rousseau, under the 
very article we have quoted. 'The inflections of the speaking- 
voice are not bounded by musical intervals. They are uncontroled, 
and impossible to be determined.' 

A knowledge therefore of the construction of Recitative, through 
that of its mingled or interwoven constituents, song and speech, 
the latter of which is here declared to be utterly inappreciable; 
must according to Rousseau at least, require some other powers 
of comprehension, than we at present possess. For having no 
perception of the characteristics of one of the constituents, our 
knowledge of Recitative seems to have been, if I may be allowed 
to jest, not unlike that of our personal acquaintance with the 
heads of a family, when the father is married to an inaudible, 
intangible and invisible woman. 

In general description, Speech, Song, and Recitative, are 
varied forms of intonation; deriving their specific differences 
from the number, kind, and combination of their respective 
vocal movements. Having described the melodial peculiarities 
of Speech, and of Song, which are the only divisions of vocal 
expression founded on instinctive indications, let us by the light 
of our history, endeavor to point out the characteristics of the 
artificial intonation of Recitative. 

The Plainest style of Recitative, for its style varies, is charac- 
terized by the following construction. 

First. It has no systematic rythmus or musical measure in the 
progression of melody. 

Second. It never gives more than one note to a single sylable ; 
song sometimes applying several short notes over one. 

Third. It employs the protracted radical and protracted vanish 
and the wave, on long quantities; and occasionally the equable 
concrete on short ones. 

Fourth. Its melodial intervals, or the discrete movements of 
its radical pitch, are of every extent, both in upward and down- 
ward transition. 

Fifth. It employs the means of time, force, vocality, abruptness 
and intonation. 
41 



634 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 

These are the simple constituents of Plain Recitative : and the 
following are some of the principles of their application. 

The melodial succession variously consists of the monotone, 
and of other phrases, through every interval of radical pitch. It 
makes no systematic distinction between a diatonic groundwork, 
and the contrasted emphasis of wider intervals, which gives effec- 
tive power, dignity, and expression to speech: the successions of 
its pitch being rather according to the promiscuous mingling of 
song. I have not recognized, in what is called unaccompanied 
recitative, an application of the doctrine of key; its melodial re- 
lationships having in this respect the characteristic of speech. 
The cadence or full pause is made by phrases of every form, 
from the monotone, to the rising and falling discrete octave; the 
current melody consisting of the protracted radical, or protracted 
vanish, with an occasional rising and falling concrete and wave. 
All these constituents are so intermingled and arranged by the 
composer, as not only to suit that caprice, he may miscall Ex- 
pression, but also to give that order to the constituents^ he may 
choose to call Melody. If however we cease to beleve upon 
authority, that Recitative is wonderfully expressive, we will then 
begin to reflect, how this supposed variety, founded on wider 
intervals and waves, with a frequent recurrence of upward and 
downward skips, and with so many mounting and plunging ca- 
dences, must, by its constant and violent obtrusions, be shockingly 
monotonous to the Natural Science of an ear, accustomed to a 
true vocal expression, under the easy and gratifying variety of 
cultivated speech. 

Such being the structure of Recitative, its expression can have 
but little resemblance to that of the speaking voice. Comparing 
its plainest form above described, with the intonation of speech, 
which it pretends to borrowj its only means of expression on in- 
dividual sylables, for its current has none, are included under the 
following heads. 

First. The expression of slow and of rapid utterance; and of 
long and of short quantity. 

Second. That of the degrees of force; both as to emphasis and 
drift. 

Third. Ofvocality; particularly of guttural vibration, and the 
orotund. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 635 

Fourth. Of intonation; by the occasional employment of the 
discrete rising fifth or octave, for inquiry; of the downward skip, 
for positive or imperative declaration ; and of the wave of the 
semitone and the minor third, for plaintiveness. But even these 
are so irregularly mingled with contra-meaning constituents, that 
like the same constituents in the throat of the mocking-bird, they 
lose much, if not all their expressive character. Nor are they 
applied according to invariable rule: for I have heard true inter- 
rogative words, intonated with a simple monotone, or ditone; 
declarative questions with a downward fifth, or octave; and forci- 
ble imperatives, with the widest ascending intervals. This, with 
the 'Little Book' and pencil in hand, was noted at the Opera. 

Plain Recitative at once strikes the common ear as very re- 
markable, and so distinct from speech and song, that its structure, 
and its character^ for it can scarcely be regarded as expressive to 
a natural ear* must w T hen compared with the structure and ex- 
pression of speech and of song, give a definite perception of these 
three vocal functions, and enable us to point-out what is peculiar 
to each. We perceve, that one cannot assume the character of 
another, without dropping its own character, and becoming alto- 
gether that other: and that definitions which set-forth Recita- 
tive, as a musical intonation of speech, or an engrafting of the 
inflections of speech on song, or of song on speech, are without 
either clearness or truth. We can further perceve, that as speech 
never employs the protracted notes, but always the equable 
concrete, or its modifications, it does not, through this broad 
distinction, partake in effect, of the character of song or of re- 
citative; and both these, using the protracted notes, are more 
nearly related; and with slight change do mutually pass into 
each other. And so it happens, that the singer often gradually 
passes from the above described Plain Recitative, to the florid 
execution, by freely introducing all the intonations of song. 
Hence instead, of this plain construction with its few constitu- 
ents, he introduces to a greater or less extent, the rising and the 
falling concrete in all their forms; tremors, notes, waves, and 
even divisions and shakes: in short, while applying these con- 
stituents, under a barred and rythmic time, he does, in effect, 
produce the full characteristic of song itself. 



636 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 






Of these three forms of intonation, it appears, that Speech and 
Song, both by construction and effect, are most unlike each other ; 
that even the plainest Recitative, by construction more nearly re- 
sembles song, and in its execution by vocalists, most readily runs 
into it; that Speech has the most extended and delicate powers 
of expressing thought and passion; by the union of a conven- 
tional language with an instinctive intonation, and a perfect 
adaptation of one to the other ; that Song, by the succession of 
its notes, and concrete intervals, and other forms of intonation, 
together with vocality, quantity, and force, has, exclusively of 
words, its otvn peculiar manner of exciting feelings of grandeur, 
pathos, gayety, and grace; and that Recitative, which, by one of 
the not unfrequent delusions of perception, was originally intro- 
duced, and has since been continued for centuries, as embracing 
within itself the characteristic expression of both speech and 
song, does, by this vain effort to join two incompatible functions, 
really destroy the peculiar and delightful character of each. 

Composers may among themselves have framed rules for a 
conventional meaning in Recitative, to which being long accus- 
tomed, they may have come at last to beleve them to be the 
rules of instinctive expression. If those, not under the influence 
of habit, do sometimes listen with pleasure to Recitative, or say 
they doj is it not from this vocal Oddity having been invented, or 
revived in modern Italyj Italy has, thereupon, assumed to give 
law to the musical world; or from its being expected at the Opera; 
or carelessly heard, in anticipation of the succeding Air? Such 
influences too often pervert our perception, and reconcile us to 
a vitiated taste. Besides, it is as far, in the present state of the 
human mind, from being true, in Art, as it is in Government-; 
that an allowed dictatorial authority, except in the saving-energy 
of a desperate case, is a protection against error and corruption. 
The Architecture of Italy, with a sort of prescriptive right to 
direct the world, has in most of its departments, from the old 
Roman, downward, done as much violence to the principles of 
unity, grandeur, simplicity, order, and cautious variety^ as the 
false pretensions of Recitative have done to the true and beautiful 
system of vocal expression both in speech and song. 

After Recitative, by some capricious straining after novelty. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 637 

was introduced, it became an object with the reflective part of its 
votaries, as well it might, to find some ground to justify its use. 
With this view, it was by a strange conceit, classed among the 
Imitative arts; and its peculiar intonation was supposed to be a 
refined copy of common speech, raised to the 'Beau Ideal' of 
vocal expression. 

The following free translation of an extract from an article by 
Marmontel, in the French Encyclopedia of Diderot, under the 
word Recitative, describes this 'theory.' 'When the Italians 
proposed to give a melody to theatric declamation, the purpose in 
joining music with it, like the purpose of exalting prose into 
poetry, was to embelish Nature in imitating her. In other words, 
to give to declamation a character more agreeable to the ear, and 
if possible, more exciting to the feelings than that of natural 
speech ; without however, altering too far, the form of the Arch- 
etype; but so ordering the refined imitation, as not to obscure 
the purpose and means of the original.' And againj 'If then it 
is true, that song, like verse in relation to prose, does embelish 
speech in imitating it, thereby throwing an elegant ilusion over 
its character, we should not reject this additional pleasure of 
taste ; and whoever is endowed with a delicate ear, will not com- 
plain, on hearing speech delivered in a singing voice.' 

We are sorry to differ from M. Marmontel : and though we 
may not have that -delicate ear, and therefore may have no right 
to complain, yet with a taste acquired in the school of Nature, 
we cannot approve. And here, notwithstanding an early resolu- 
tion, only to observe and record, to which however I have not 
been able always to adhere^ I feel myself compelled to offer a 
transient argument, in dissenting from the unfounded notions on 
this subject. 

The theory of Imitation assumed common conversation, which 
it called the 'natural tonej' to be the archetype or pattern. The 
more deliberate and impressive style of the theater, and of public 
oratory, was called Declamation; and was the First remove in 
'imitation' from the 'natural tone.' This declamation, when 
Chanted by the voice alone, or with the instrumental company of 
something like a varied drone-bass, was called Plain Recitative ; 
and its further remove from common speech, and approach to- 



638 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 

wards song, was the Second degree of imitation. Recitative 
accompanied by instruments, in a barred and rythmic harmony, 
formed the Third degree of imitationj a still further remove from 
the ' natural tone,' or common speech: and Song, or what is 
called Air, was supposed to have the least resemblance to it. 

By the light of our history, the Reader may perhaps perceve 
the falacy of this assumption. Language is a sign of the mind, 
not a copy of it. Common speech then, is the sign of thought 
and passion, and in no meaning of the term, an imitation of them. 
Declamation is speech itself, in a more impressive use of its con- 
stituents. Plain recitative employs some intonations, not used 
in speech, and makes a false or garbled application of those that 
are^ and consequently is no imitation. Accompanied recitative 
has still greater differences from speech than the Plainj though 
of similar character and effect. Air, or Song having its own 
peculiar use of notes and intervals, with its own peculiar expres- 
sion, can have no resemblance whatever to speech; and cannot 
therefore be an imitation of it. Thus we learn that common 
speech is an original function, planned for itself alone; and to 
speak figuratively, only copied, if at all, from Nature's secret 
pattern of its purpose : nor has Nature herself ever copied any- 
thing from it. But conceitful man, in trying to beautify, by 
imitating her as he supposedj at last blundered into Recitative; 
the true or contorted archetype of which is not to be found in the 
natural voice of all this peopled earth. And if drawn by Plato's 
First Philosophy from the skiesj when, in the Sacred name of 
Urania, has any metaphysical audience of the heavenly choir, 
ever reported an example of its vocal oddity and monotonous 
affectation ! 

Another opinion, assumed to justify the use of Recitative, was-; 
that as speech is so widely different from song, in its effects upon 
the ear: and as the more acute and forcible sound, and stronger 
contrast of intonation, in song, together with the peculiar and 
different kind of expression, are much more striking than the 
'natural tone,' it was supposed, there should be some interme- 
diate function, partaking of the character of each, to unite their 
succession, with less violence to the ear. The instances of things, 
both in nature and art, in favor of this medium of gradual tran- 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 639 

sition, are not more numerous than the instances of abrupt 
changes that oppose it ; and as no argument can therefore be 
drawn from this source, we must consider the case in itself. 

On the ground then of our history of the voice, we cannot ad- 
mit, there is the least plea in good taste, or the demands of the 
ear, for this interposition of Recitative. How does the principle 
apply to that universal function of Speech, the Equable Concrete, 
when a gradual vanish leads us out of the full and abrupt open- 
ing of the radical, and not gradually from silence, into it? Do 
the first notes of song, in a favorite melody, ever require more 
than their own delightful impression, to introduce them from 
silence or from speech? Who, in the Church-service, calls for a 
motly midway of intonation, in passing from prayer and bene- 
diction, to the chant and the anthem? And what, in the decent 
pride of consistency, becomes of this principle of gradual transi- 
tion, when the voice passes abruptly from silence to the striking 
peculiarity of this very Recitative; and again, when in an un- 
known language, it passes from this gibberish, both of words and 
expression, to the deafening jargon of melody, harmony, and 
articulation, in the over-strained voices and instruments of a full 
Operatic chorus?* The design of this notion of mediation, to 
prevent the violent contrast between speech and song, has ren- 
dered the whole course of the Operaj when not releved by the 
occasional variety of the delightful Aria, and by passages of ex- 
quisite orchestral harmony^ a continued monotony, to him whose 
ear has not been contorted by fashion, and who admits our view 
of the principles of Drift; for these show that in speech, the ear 
is guarded against the false and too frequent use of wide and ex- 
pressive intervals, by such a use being always monotonous and 
offensive. Nature has no unnecessary chasms in her designs^ 
though the works of man are full of them. When therefore he 
comes to study her purpose in the voice, he will find no gap be- 

* We had lately an instance in one of our Cities, of what an Italian Opera 
can play-off upon the ignorance or inattention of an audiencej by the first and 
second Tenor, and Bass, severally singing and reciting their parts in Italian, 
German, and French. The next day the amateurs and critics were very indig- 
nant, at the Troupe-leader's impudence. Strange complaint! when to an Eng- 
lish ear, the whole in 'choice Italian,' is impudent enough, without adding two 
other jargons, that nobody was attentive encfugh to perceve. 



640 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 

tween speech and song, to be passed by the Ponticelloj no, the 
Ponte-rotto of Recitative.* 

From the violence offered by Recitative, to our vocal-habits, 
St. Evrcmond long ago formally questioned its claims to the 
merits of propriety, and taste. This is a very strong motive; 
for surely, no one ever did recognize or enter-into the expression 

* In refering above, to the undistinguishable words and expression of Reci- 
tative, in a foreign language; and to the deafening vowels of an Opera-Chorus, 
I do not so particularly allude to the Italian language, as to that uninteligible 
plain-English, which seems to be the common mother-tongue of so many of its 
singers. I lately heard in translation, the Oratorio of 'Joseph and his Breth- 
ren:' and throughout Solo, Duett, and Chorus^ Soprano, Tenor, and Bass, I did 
not recognize, with the exception of now and then an interjection, twenty 
words, so distinctly, as to know what they were. They had better have been 
in Japanese, for there would then have been no vexatious longing for what they 
pretended to be, and no endeavor to translate them. As to that clashing of 
vocality, and discord in intonation, the necessary vocal vices of a vociferating 
crowds 'Quousque tandem abutere, Coryphaeus, patientia nostra?' When will 
the Mob-like Chorus of the Opera cease its confounding uproar? For while 
each and all, in musical strife, are straining both voice and instrument into 
one time-beaten noises who has ever heard a smoothly moderated note, or an 
articulated word from any one of them? This is not the choice of uncorrupted 
nature in the human ear. It belongs to the whooping savage of an early age. 
In our own time, it comes from the Composer and the Audience reciprocally 
vitiating each other's taste. And it only adds another to the unnumbered in- 
consistencies of the mind and the senses, when in Christian Countries, after 
weekly returns, in our Churches, of delight at the impressive grandeur and 
grace of the subdued harmony of the Choir; and after once hearing the refined 
solemnity of the Choral Prayer in Masaniello, we can bear to be deafened by 
the brazen-racket of a certain red-headed scene in Norma, as 'got up' in our 
Country. 

It may be said, 'there is a style appropriate to the Church.' And so, it is 
equally proper, that in every place music, in its parts, should be distinctly heard; 
its expression unconfusedly felt: and the drum of the ear not to be torn by its 
unmerciful violence. But further, the critic tells us, this scene in Norma pre- 
sents the true vocal and military costume, and 'carroty-locks,' of the time and 
place in which the action is laid. Be it so. Are we therefore in any way, to 
sacrifice taste to an outlandish costume in sight, or scent, or sound? And be- 
cause some shouting Celts, like beings of a Hotter clime, 'clashed on their 
sounding shields the din of war,' and are allowed, 'highly to rage, and hurl 
defiance' against civilized ears, upon a modern Stage; how could we blame an 
Author who, in search of novelty, should locate his Opera among a Horde of 
Tartars, and who, with reference to the dramatic costume, and to the truth of 
his story, should bring his Soprano, Tenore and Basso assoluto^ the Reader 
allowing the homely similitude and phrase^ to 'wet their whistles' for a Trio, 
over a steaming caldron of the usual daintiest flesh of their country! 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 641 

of this extraordinary intonation, if he had not by the authority, 
or the daily practice of the Conservatorio, been drilled out of the 
instinct of a natural ear, into a forced belief that it is the only 
Artistic style for displaying the elevated character of dramatic 
thought and passion. But this argument, like that against many 
other things at first very shocking, may be refuted by custom 
and time. Our objection is drawn from another source. It has 
been shown, that speech being founded on a universal and identi- 
cal meaning and practice among mankind, has a system of verbal 
and vocal signs, for thought, and passion, often perverted and 
corrupted, but never overruled and changed to a different system ; 
that song, like instrumental music, has forms of intonation alto- 
gether its own, for the expression only of what we called Feeling, 
and totally independent of verbal signs. From a close observa- 
tion of these distinctions, and a studious search after any mode 
of the vocal signs, which for human purposes, might be admissible, 
we have insisted, that besides these two functions, speech and 
song, the voice has no other universal means of expression ; that 
from their separate characters, their uses are not compatible with 
each other or interchangeable; and that any attempt to institute 
other signs, for a just expression of thought and passion in one 
case, and of feeling, in the other, is like an endeavor to create 
anew the voice and mind of man. Our preceding objections are 
not in any degree drawn from a contest of our own personal with 
a prevailing conventional taste; nor entirely, from the debatable 
ground, of the violence offered at first to the unaccustomed ear: 
for we have endeavored to found them upon a survey of the re- 
spective means and purposes of speech and song; and thereby to 
show, that the modern invention of Recitative, which as a 're- 
fined copy of theatric declamation,' was designed to effect a more 
exalted expression, by engrafting song on speech, is, by the light 
of analysis, and the test of an unenslaved ear-; after all, but a 
fiction, and therefore by the doom of all fictional pretension, 
ought to be a failure. 

This conclusion will certainly be considered by the Masters of 
music, and their world of followers, as highly audacious: but it 
has been thought upon, much longer with reference to truth, than 
to opinion; and we appeal from prescriptive prejudice, and the 



642 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 

inflexibility of the musical mind, to a liberal and a docile intelect- 
ual-ear, instructed by the history of an inflexible ordination in 
the uses of the human voice. But notwithstanding all our ob- 
jections, Recitative will still continue to be a fashionable and 
therefore self sufficient delight of the Opera; just as the artificial 
taste for Alcohol and its associate, that Nauseous Weed, will, 
among craving and restless wanderers in perception, regardless 
of the warning and the penalty of disease and death, continue to 
supply the place of self-contented purposes, in productive occupa- 
tion, and in educated thought. 

We owe the modern creation, or supposed revival of Recita- 
tive, in part, to the fatal influence of that vampire of Classic 
authority, which, while fanning us into a learned and vain-glori- 
ous stupefaction, has for ages, on more subjects than one, been 
drawing out the life-blood of our intelectual independence. The 
ignorance of both the Greeks and the Romans, upon the subject 
of the voice, obliged them to describe their limited perceptions, 
by loose explanation and indefinite metaphor; and we have been 
contented, in this as in some other of their arts, to take a record 
of the poverty of their knowledge, as the historic scraps of a sys- 
tem, regarded by the modern scholar, if it was not by themselves, 
as little short of perfection. The learned world has teazed itself 
into despair, by attempts to discover, wherein consisted the in- 
imitable charm of Greek poetical recitation; thereby to ilustrate 
the expressive means of that 'melodious language,' which when 
writers on the human voice shall broadly observe and reflect on their 
subject, they will admit to be very little more melodious, or as they 
will then mean, more rythmic than their own. 'Among the Greeks,' 
says Rousseauj and his classical scholarship and musical-philosophy 
may well represent the rest in this matter* 'among the Greeks, 
all their poetry was in recitative.' And againj 'The Greeks could 
sing in speaking, but among us, we must either sing or speak ; we 
cannot do both at the same time.' With such a miraculous physi- 
ology, no wonder, there should have been modern altars to this 
still 'Unknown God' of the power and perfection of ancient 
speech: nor that Pulci the poet, in reciting his Morgante Mag- 
giore, as we are told, at the table of Lorenzo de Medici, should 
have supposed himself to be the happy agent of a needed revela- 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 643 

tion, of the method of Grecian dramatic-recitative, or of Homer's 
declamatory song. 

If there is any truth and consistency in nature^ the human 
voice in its mechanism, its principles, and its uses for thought, 
and passion, and for the feeling of song, has been the same, 
wherever these states of mind have been the same. And as the 
earliest writings, and other records of the earliest nations, repre-- 
sent like characters of mind, to those existing at the present day, 
we must conclude^ if the Greeks did not use their voices, accord- 
ing to the laws of nature, as we acknowledge and fulfil themj 
they must by our decision at least, have used them improperly ; 
and have defeated the intention of those laws. When therefore, 
in the contemptuous language of classical scholarship, we are 
told, we cannot speak and sing at the same time^ we, scholars of 
Nature and inquiry, must say, the Greeks could not speak and 
sing at the same time. 

Notwithstanding a universal confidence in the taste of the 
Greeks, we cannot beleve, they were free from gross and uni- 
versal faults, in their Art of speech, on which they have left us 
neither method nor rule : well knowing how they violated their 
own established principles, in some of their boasted, and recorded 
arts. 

The selfish and tasteless schemes of the Statesman, the osten- 
tatious authority, and equal selfishness of the Priesthood, and the 
inflexible formality of a Ceremonial worship, may, in the Vocal- 
Ritual, as well as in Temple- Architecture, and in Sculpture, have 
continued the enormities of some ruder age, or courted a time- 
serving variety in the fashion of newer faults ; all in flagrant, and 
therefore thoughtless inconsistency with their methodic principles 
of Fitness, Unity, Grandeur, Harmony, Proportion, and Grace. 
In proof, let us learn how this fitness, and unity, and grandeur 
were marred, even by the renowned Phidias, in his renowned 
Minerva, by assigning her a labor of strength, not of wisdom, in 
balancing a victory on her palm ; with a sculptured form made up 
of ivory and gold, surrounded by an enriched and costly farrago 
of accessory decoration, all suitable perhaps to the 'pomp and 
vanity' of the Priest, and to the ignorant wonder of the Devotee; 
but to the eye of an uncontroled Grecian Artist, presenting in 



1)44 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 

material, or color, or accessory, or form-* no unitizing relations, 
either of harmony or contrast. Let us learn too, how fitness and 
propriety were outraged by perching a statue aloft, on each angle 
of a Doric pediment; and by striping the immaculate whiteness 
of an external entablature with some gaudy and dis-gracing paint. 
In further and still existing proof, let us go ourselves to the cele- 
brated Erectheum, on that all-observed Athenian Acropolis; and 
bearing in mind the unity, simplicity, order, proportion, and sym- 
metry, which in a Peripteral Temple, impressed themselves, all 
at once, on the eye of the beholclerj we must perceve those princi- 
ples neglected in this unbalanced plan, as if unknown or forgot- 
ten ; a plan and superstructure confusing even to us, but to the 
reflective eye of a Grecian Artist, unbiased by the obligation of 
Conformity to the priesthood or the people, presenting only the 
distraction of undetermined entrances, with wwrespective sym- 
metry of fronts, and flanks; of unequal and awkward elevations 
on a hill-side; and of excrescences, vainly claiming by some tri- 
fling merits in detail, to be uniting and co-expressive parts' of a 
self-discordant whole. Bat we have not yet done with this un- 
grecian Erectheum. Its Caryatid-portico, if designed as an em- 
blem of Grecian enmity, has by that enmity, betrayed a lapse of 
excelence in Grecian taste. We still see in columns changed to 
Caryan women, with the conceit of reeded draperies, how these 
4 Arts of Taste that civilize mankind,' while leading on to the 
grotesk, forgot their rules not only of unity, fitness, order and 
propriety, but of humanity itselfj in recording an ungenerous and 
degrading vengeance to the memory of a fallen foe. 

If we then weigh the ail-but faultless merits of Grecian taste, 
in its own balance, we may, from some overpoise of prejudice, or 
authority, sometimes find it wanting. On the subject of the voice, 
the Greeks having no oratorical physiology as we may call it, 
could have had no well-founded or influential rules. We are free 
therefore to suppose grosser violations of taste in the practice of 
their Speech, than we find in the choice productions of some of 
their Arts, which we know to have been generally directed by 
principles deep-founded and exact. If the history of the voice, 
contained in this work, authorizes the conclusion, we may rest in 
a belief, that could we have a dreaming revelation of the manner 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 6-L5 

of their hierophants, orators, players, sophists, street-criers, and 
school-boys, we would awake to record a chapter of criticism, 
very much like our fiftieth section, on the Faults of Readers in 
the nineteenth century. 

The style of that vocal perfection which the Roman eulogist, 
by the privilege of his poetry, figuratively ascribes to the inspira- 
tion of the Muse, may, in the chant of the Odeum, the declama- 
tions of the Theater, and the recitation of the Olympic Games, 
have been with the Greeks, a greater departure from the rule of 
nature, than they sometimes exhibited, in a departure from their 
high and all-sufficient principle of unity in Material, by the dis- 
cordant assemblage of gold, and ebony, marble, ivory and wood 
in their most celebrated statues: or in the violation of their own 
eternal rules of simplicity, grandeur, unity, decorum, and grace, 
exhibited in the Erectheumj placed, as it would seem, to make its 
faults more glaringj placed in 'audacious neighborhood,' beside 
the all-surpassing Parthenon. 

I return from this digression, to remark, that ignorant as we 
are of the real vocal practice of the Greeks, the Reader who has 
attentively considered and who comprehends the descriptions in 
this essay, will be satisfied to conjecture for himself, what they 
did if it was wrong; and to decide what it was, if they knew*, 
and did what is right. 

If then Signor Pulci did delight the adulated and munificent 
Lorenzo, by the recovery of some lost conventicle or canting 
tune, in vogue with the ancient Altar and the Stagey it might 
allow the conjecture, that some Recitative-corruption of speech 
had come dow 7 n by tradition from Homer, or. Tyrteus, or was in 
latter days, by some capricious influence, imposed upon the ser- 
vile ear: just as many of the laws of musical expression are in 
this generation, overborne with like distortion, by the inveterate 
dogmas of the composer, the masked tyranny of fashion, and the 
consenting slavery of mankind.* 

* At an early stage of these inquiries, I colected a few materials on the sub- 
ject of Greek Accent: and then contemplated subjoining to this essay, some 
remarks upon it. But perhaps the obscurity, inconsistencies, and meager phi- 
losophy of this worried topic of classical heresy and faith, are now sufficiently 
apparent, by the light of our preceding analysis. The self-delusions of national, 
like those of personal vanity, are peculiar to no age or people: and one can see 



646 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 

Here I conclude the cursory view of the physiological func- 
tions of Song and Recitative : having avoided therein, everything 
like a practical application of the subject. Some one better qual- 
ified than myself may be disposed to prosecute the inquiry. In 
the first part of this Work, the vocal signs of expression in Speech 
are set-forth by an elementary description of their particular 
modes and forms. An analysis of the forms of expression in 
Song, by the light of that description, and according to the hints 
here thrown-out, would be interesting, and might be successful. 
Nothing could give me more pleasure than to assist in its develop- 
ment. But this would lead me from some other designs of duty ; 
and I have too impatient a perception of the wasted experience, 

about him every day, enough of the boast of empires, and of men, to make him 
scrutinize the rolls of fame, blazoned by the same genus of vain-glory and of 
credulity, two thousand years ago. 

We know all the stories about barbarian ambassadors being delighted with 
the music alone, of a language they did not comprehend: and of that universal 
acuteness and 'proud judgment of the ear,' which made the Athenian herb- 
women and porters speak with all the purity of the Academy. Yet we should 
have other proof than the report of grammarians: and should find them writing 
with more fulness and precision, on an art they are said to have known and 
practiced so well, before we can beleve, that on this subject, the Greeks were at 
all superior to ourselves; and if they did 'speak and sing at the same time/ 
they were not, when we except the singing-speech of the Quakers, even below 
us, in the proper uses of the voice. 

If one should be disposed to beleve in the vocal perfection of the Greeks, 
through any other than their own testimony, he might well question the author- 
ity of their Roman eulogists: since they themselves, the pupils of the Greeks, 
display no better analysis and system in their institute of elocution. We may 
fairly estimate their discrimination, when with the same pen that deals out the 
extravagancies of praise upon the Oratorical Action of their masters, they 
gravely give us, as proof too of their own nicety in vocal science, the story of 
one of their famous orators having occasion for a Pitch-pipe, to enable him to 
recognize his own voice, as the ignorant populace thought, and affectedly to 
govern his melody, through the more accurate perceptions of a slave, who now 
and then blew this little regulating trumpet at his elbow! ! 

Should I be obliged to hold an opinion upon the subject of ancient accent-; 
the fixed appropriation of an acute, grave, and circumflex rise, fall, and turn of 
the voice, to individual sylables, being utterly inconsistent with a proper or 
elegant system of intonation, would induce me to beleve^ the Greeks and Romans 
did always mean stress alone, in their report on the accentual function : but had 
connected with it a crude theory of pitch, formed perhaps out of some fragments 
of Egyptian, or Eastern science, or conceit-* which Pythagoras, or whoever im- 
ported them, did not thoroughly comprehend. 



A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 647 

and profitless notions which daily present themselves in the 
changeful errors of my Profession, not to desire to use in its 
service, a Method of Philosophy which I hope will be found to 
have been effectual here. 

For causes known to more than to myself, but which others 
need not at present know, I laid aside a Practical work on Medi- 
cine, with the view of completing this: and I am now going to 
resume it. 



It is at the date of this sixth Edition^ forty years since the pre- 
ceding sentence was written, on the first Printing of this essay. 
After its publication, I did resume the subject to which I then 
alluded. Its broad design was arranged in early life ; and much 
of its detail was afterwards executed. Having however resolved 
to pursue that subject by observation alone; and being unwiling 
either to throw time away, or to be forced into wasteful conten- 
tions, without even a distant prospect of usefulness, I long-ago 
laid it aside, for subjects, which if not contributive to others, 
might at least be instructive and agreeable to myself. Its pur- 
pose was, on the ground of the method of discovery adopted in 
this essay, to propose to the Practical Department of Medicine, 
the means for inquiring into the deep-laid causes of its unprofit- 
able theoretic habits; its sectarian contrarieties; its perpetual 
changes in opinion and practice; and its restless, but well-meant 
endeavors in the wrong way, to accomplish something right and 
needful for itself. 

To obtain if possible, a hearing in a Cause so apparently hope- 
less, I laid before the Medical Profession, the preceding Example 
of philosophic investigation. This was not done with the least 
thought to improve its Elocution; but, from the successful result 
of an inquiry into one of its own subjects, to invite a like inquiry 
into some of those versatile fictions, which under the name of 
knowledge, have to no purpose, occupied it so long; and which 
have, to the plain observation of the world, been the jest of 
a well-deserved but useless satire. In this, however, I have 
failed. For though it was submitted as an original view of the 



648 A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF RECITATIVE. 

proper Physiology of the voicej yet with a Census of more than 
forty thousand Physicians, in the United States, I do not know, 
nor have I heard-of one, who has so far looked into it, as to have 
risked his Theoretic Life, by catching a single infectious thought 
from its adopted Baconian method: a method that did hope to 
recommend itself by what it had already done. 

To my inteligent Readers of another class, I may remark, and 
it will perhaps be receved, that widely different as the essay they 
have just finished is, in system and in practical character, from 
the Old Elocution; there might be under the method we have 
adopted, a still greater difference between some New Order of 
Medicine, and the disorderly opinions and practice of any of the 
countless Heterogeneous Systems of the day; systems under 
which, their votaries must still pretend to know more than they 
do know, and affect to perform more than with their jealous con- 
tentions among themselves, they ever can. Let them then change 
their narrow view of Causes and Effects, for one of Baconian 
breadth, in observation and thought: and possibly Truth, who in 
her purity and plainness seems to have always avoided them, may, 
with but a look of philosophic invitation on their part, lose all her 
shyness, and freely afford her restorative assistance in their pres- 
ent theoretic extremity. 



Philadelphia, March 20, 1867. 



THE END. 






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